sitting here
in my desolate wasteland
broken thoughts
shattered dreams
my heart screams
for a shred of hope
but all that replies
is an empty, loveless silence.
i have no good to fibe
no meaning to live
my mind engulfed my sadness
my heart drowned by tears
death on her mind
knife in her hand
suicide her one choice
her reasons to live,
are few, if any.
and she wants to end it.
bloody heart,
bloody hands,
pain in puddles,
on the bloody floor.
blood seeping away,
puddles growing large,
the knife rolls away,
blood soaking the blade.
 
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