They say love can **** you,
And it's true
love is suicide,
To fall in love is like tying a noose around your neck,
The more you fall in love,
the tighter the noose gets,  
Maybe that's why I felt so breathless
Everytime I saw you smile.

He started without the ****
Now he just being completely
***

I miss you, I really do
But you obviously don't want to talk to me anymore.
So what's the point?
It hurts, it really does
But I still hope for a "Hey how are you?" Every so often.
Sometimes I miss you so much it physically hurts.
But I don't blame you for not wanting to talk to me anymore.
I just wish you would.

Can you talk to me please?
I just need someone to listen...
I need help.
See, the scars on my legs are disappearing.
But I need to know... if that's a good thing...
If that's a good thing, then why?
Why do I feel the need to replace them...
with new ones.
Can you tell me why?
Please can you talk to me?

Hold me close tonight,
I need your arms wrapped around me
Before the pieces of me tumble like a game of jenga,
I'm trying my best to see the last page of my story,
But I think it's only a matter of time till I decide to end my story,

So hold me close tonight
While you fill my head with beautiful fantasies,  
Before I decide to insert lead into it tonight,  
Intoxicate me with your voice,
Before I intoxicate myself with deaths poison tonight,
Give me the oxygen that I have been gasping for,
Before I decide to close the path to my lungs tonight,

Pull the mask off of me,
So you can see past the illusion of my smile,
So you can see that I'm in need of help,
Hold me tonight,  
Before you have to hold the stone with my name on it.

2 am,
you slept,
knees curled in towards your chest,
a ball,
trying to protect the fragile bones
lying there.

3 am,
you cried,
gripped your pillow tight,
begged for the lost to come back.

4 am,
you showered,
cleaned the sweat from your
achy limbs.

tried to scrub
the sadness from your hair.

5 am,
you made tea,
looked at a picture of them,
and wept.

6 am,
you walked,
flowers in one hand,
a book of poems in the other.

7 am,
you kneeled like a pastor
besides their grave,
prayed for deliverance,
prayed to see their eyes,
just once more.

8 am,
you read to them,
love stories,
you told them about your adventures,
and how you aren't doing so well.

9 am,
you slept with your hands
dug in the dirt,
wishing you could dig them out
and hold them in your arms.

10 am,
you gathered your things,
and walked back alone.

11 am,
you flopped yourself on the bed,
you wished you were dead.

Oh why, oh why do we all have to die?

Accident's and suicide is it really all that better on the other side?

Car crashes and burning buildings, now we are all dead;

Jumping from not so safe buildings and playing with not so toy guns;

Chalk outlines and splatters on the walls.

My oh my, what has happened to us all?

I see my death before I die with my very own eyes.

I'm just so done with watching my death a thousand different times on rewind.

And ever night I scream inside and in these dreams my skin is bleeding and my face is pale.

The water's flowing and sirens are going.

I'm hanging there with rope tied around my throat.

And in these dreams I replay a thousand times in my mind I always end up dying.

In reality I'm only sitting there crying.

A wish to come true after I'm through with high school because a pact was made to save my life,

But now I've been slowly dying.