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E McNamara May 2018
I was killing myself from the inside
Once it overflowed to the surface
It bled through my wrists
I had told my body to hate itself
So it tried to drain itself
Notes
Cat Fiske Aug 2015
I loved of milk stains from overflowed cereal bowls,
like too much love was the problem with you and I,
and not that you didn't grab a bigger bowl,
for all the love I wanted to pour out.

but like stains they fade away,
into backgrounds becoming nothings,
of somethings,
that were all once one thing,
worth the energy of the other side of what used to be,
but not everyone gets to be blown away by you,
others will do away with you,
leaving you.
to fade into the tables and become one,

you look at what you once had,
new milk fills the bowl never overstepping in things of love,
overspilling the love,
like you did,
and you'd cry if you weren't dried out.

and you look,
at what happiness they both have,
something you wished to of haved for the both of you,
and it tears your heart in two,
and you may cry on the inside,
but find it in your mind
that your heart may be broken,
but you need to let them fly,
and love,
for you couldn't love right,

and in that moment,
you shut your little milk stained eyes,
the right way to die,
is with tears of forgiveness,
and to remember and move on from the past,
and as you release a single dried out tear,
all of you fade into the background as if you were never there,
leaving no trace,
but your single dried out milk stain tear,
Just a few old Ideas I finally put together.

— The End —