I'm a suicide wannabe,
Where is the change sir?
I need to know what I defend,
I'm an island in the clouds,
There is no reason to shoot me down,
Take care of me instead,
Tread lightly over words,
While I,
Chew on broken glass,
And let the blood slide through my gums,
This isn't a cry for help
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Binge
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