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Is it called suicidal if it’s not right this minute that you want to die? I have a lot to look forward to. It’s just that, sometimes, I don’t particularly
My hands fell on morning Hard leather, cigarettes Tint midnight memories. Smoldering red sun snuck Up on me. Heartbroken Mother draped in her gown Waves me off. From my home
Six feet under I wonder what I could've done better Changed my chains, got a job, moved out the cellar, Rent a car, take my Ma on a first rate vacation,
I am no one and everyone. I'm stuck in the crowd drifting in and out. I'm eager to escape, to breathe freely and live happily. To open my eyes and truely see what's around me.