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Sunday, February 4, 2007


   wrote this a long ass time ago....when i just broke up w/ my 1st love...
Cut me out of existence, drain the dried blood from my black broken heart.
Renew the fresh and color my nails red, make my face a work of art.
Take my hair and drench it in sorrow, cover my good eye and make me blind.
Darken my eyes and poison my lips with yours, then kick me aside and leave me to cry.
Tie those chains around my crippled neck, provide small clothes for me to squeeze into.
Let me hold my dear sweet breath, so that you can breathe what’s left and I can die soon.
Hand me your precious razorblades, I’ll stick one in both of my wrists thought I may not even bleed.
Then hand me a pure loaded gun, with a skull imprinted on it and death is what I need.
My corpse is just and empty shell, my cold shallow soul forever restless.
So just let me die, I won’t even feel the mundane pain subjected more or less.

But if I can never be happy, and I hate what will never go away,
And I bleed internally always, externally without my violin to sway,
Then why am I still here, alive and free of suicide?
Because eventually I’ll die anyways, so I might as well use up my time.

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