With the gun in my hand, I think about things...
I think bout how happy we used to be. I think bout how you used to make me smile. I think bout how you used to be an angel for me. I think bout how much I used to love you. I think bout the purity we used to share. I think bout the innocence that came with that. I think bout how you used to care for me. I think bout how I used to care for you. I think bout how you promised never to hurt me. I think bout how much that was a lie...
If only the air I exhale can eradicate the immense agony I have in my system, my lungs will not have dried. If only the place I call home is not one bit hellish, I would not have been hurt. If only my heart was whole, I would not have been this empty. If only...
I lie to myself. I live in my own denial. I am my own worst nemesis. I am on the verge of self-destruction. the worst part of it all, I am all alone...
P.S: I MISS HOW WE USED TO BE...
Friday, April 10, 2009
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