cut my wrists
I'm sorry
for the hurt I always cause
don't why
don't know when
but somehow
I always cause trouble
perhaps I should just leave
just cut my wrists and bleed to death
the color of my blood
will make me aware
of the fact
that I'm dying
and that after this pain
it will all be better
I'm starting to think
that maybe that
is my solution
my solution to pain
and my solution to living
cause my life isn't worth living
and living isn't worth my life...
for the hurt I always cause
don't why
don't know when
but somehow
I always cause trouble
perhaps I should just leave
just cut my wrists and bleed to death
the color of my blood
will make me aware
of the fact
that I'm dying
and that after this pain
it will all be better
I'm starting to think
that maybe that
is my solution
my solution to pain
and my solution to living
cause my life isn't worth living
and living isn't worth my life...
Reacties op dit gedicht
| little-missiej: | Zaterdag, september 18, 2004 21:33 |
| het iddee is fout, maar heel moeilijk uit je hoofd te krijgen I know | |
| Pebbles: | Vrijdag, juli 26, 2002 14:46 |
| pls denk da ni, echt waar, they need you here, echt waar, ken ui mescien ni persoonlijk eh, mo ben zeker da der mensen zijn die niet zonder ui kunne, wanna talk? mail me... | |
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: marjoleincris | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 14 augustus 2001 | ||
| Thema's: | ||