"I love you,"
She said, one cold winter day.
With scars on her thighs and
With sadness in her heart.
"I love you."

"I love you,"
He said, one rainy spring day.
With scars on his wrists and
With tears in his eyes.
"I love you."

"I love you,"
She said, one hot summer day.
With pants on her thighs and
With sleeves on her wrists.
"I love you."

"I love you,"
He wrote, one cool autumn day.
With a rope around his neck and
With pills in his system.
He professed his love for the last time
On a piece of torn paper.
"I love you."

Early morning cigarettes,
And early morning tea.
I sit there contemplating life
Pondering what is to come.
With a book in my right hand,
And a cigarette in my left,
And the tea on the table,
And my dog at my feet,
I smile.
Not because I lead my life
With happiness,
But because in that moment
I am perfectly content.

I am not afraid of suicide,
You see.
I am only afraid of
What would happen
If I were to fail.
I would wake up in a hospital,
Tear stained faces surrounding my bed.
And sorrow in my heart.
But i may take the risk anyway
Because I will always have the wish
To die
Just to
Live
In their
Heads.

She said quietly
"I dont care."

But I could tell by the way
Her voice cracked when she said it.
I could tell by the lump in her throat.
I could tell by the gloss in her eyes.
And I could tell by
The crimson
On her wrists that

She really did care.