I can't breathe,
I don't want to,
The thought of living,
Makes me feel sick,
I can't control,
The flow of tears,
I'm just screaming,
For air,
Or better yet,
Someone to hold,
While I collapse,
Into a mess of tears and blood,
On the cold, hard floor,
Tearing at the walls,
And ripping my heart to shreds
©Nicola-Isobel H. 14.01.2011