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morbid
Submitted:Mar 25, 2009 Reads: 102 Comments: 3 Likes: 2
drink the poison with a thorn as our treat
eating death because we have nothing else to eat
if we're transformed to be perfect, that means that theres no more me
i can't believe in fairytales
and i can't believe in lying people, telling me how to think
trusting me is trusting a recorder
i just blurt it all out
i'm not perfect and i still am accused
for loving me is just no use
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Other writing by xxemowritingxx Abusive Boyfriend There she was, with no one around Sickness in me he doesnt love me She wanders alone Morbid sikk poem
Life, Death, Pain, Sad, Poem, Poetry, Hate, Hurt, Depression, Dark, Heart, Sadness, You, Hope, Lost, Suicide, Alone, Broken, Romance, Me, Loss, God, Lonely, Tears, World, Friends, Fear, Time, Abuse, Friendship, Song