I thought I was clean,
After 5 months no drugs and alcohol.
I thought I was safe,
After six months of not hurting myself.
Guess I was wrong.
Whatever.

To be the one to speak her name as mine.
The ghost of her past.
Glistering water.
Ocean eyes.
Soft satin lips.
Dead roses.
Crumbled in the dust.
My blood on the purple flowers.
Blossom flowers.
Trees in morning dew.
The sound of pen on paper.
Diamond rain drops.
Tears rolling siltently down her face.
Scars on my skin.
Knife covering my wrists.
The end of the world.
The blood swirling in my veins, soon to be poured out.

I have a thing with the colour purple,
It always has something to do with the bad things in my life.
The person with the profile picture,
The purple LGBTQ+ flag.
The purple walls of your room,
The purple flowers with my blood on them.
Not like anyone notices,
It's probably just my imagination.
I 'aint ever going back to that dark place tho.

I don't have a choice anyways.

I really am
No good for you.
Want to stop you leaving
When I push you away.
But nothing is better sometimes
I'm used to losing you
I'll only hurt you
When you finally let me
I am no good in general
Been telling you all along
And now I like it like that
When you realise I'm the bad guy

I did it again...

Not so sorry