Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The pressure on my wrist
Almost feels like a knife
Waiting to slice
And end this life

Waiting to mark
My snow white skin
Releasing the pain
I feel within

Waiting to spill
My crimson blood
And mix it with the tears
That thunder like a flood

Waiting for revenge
On those who have lied
Waiting to help me
Commit suicide

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