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by *BrEaKiNg AwAy* Mar 15, 2006 category : Sadness, depression / about depression
This hard cold bullet I hold as if it were gold It's as precious to me as if the trigger were pulled These razor sharp scissors are worth more to me Than life itself and prescious eternity My pencil eraser I treasure the most of all because it vanishes my skin When I want my life to fall.