I write sad poems abt depression, relationships, family and stuff like that . |
carrying the knife in my trembling hands.
wondering where to jab it in between my glands...
how dare you see me again,
with indignation sharp as flame...
carrying the knife in my trembling hands.
wondering where to jab it in between my glands...
every night I wield the knife.
every night it takes a life...
My mascara was perfect.
It wasn't too watery, nor too dry...
You made me hate our favorite
song we would blast...
Nobody can fill the void you left inside of me. |
He told me forever. |