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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sometimes nothing makes sense, but what you have to remember is that you do have control. It's what you choose to do with that control that makes the feelings so pathetic.

Submitted: October 09, 2007

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 09, 2007




Tears fight their way down,

They stain my lonely face,

My existence is flawed,


Screams fill my head,

I can’t hear any other sound,


The blood drips down, cold and empty,

I’d give you my soul, lord knows it can’t help me,

I’d give you my heart, but the pulse it beats has dried,

I’d give you my mind, but it can’t even seem to make me rhyme,


Tried to end it once,

Tried to end it twice,

Took the pills and cut the veins,

But all I seem to do is wake,


Nothing matters anymore,

Might as well pick the sore,


And ill keep on cutting,

And ill keep on crying,

As long as I pick myself apart, I will no longer fall apart.

© Copyright 2017 katrina soroya. All rights reserved.

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