thepalerider

With the world reaking of mayhem and havoc suicide dreams have become my latest habit getting off on the idea of my friends crying below, I want to die just to see if this is so. A wrist plus a knife is to a neck plus a noose is to a cry without reason, a lie without treason, it doesn't exist, at least not on a mortals list. It doesn't scare me, I'm aware, I have problems I can't share. let the weeping grass tell my tales, my grave, my essence, inhales. Do not shed your tears, my death came fast. thankfully it was my last. No more scarring or tearing, or parting or sharing. I just wish the last person I saw was you, but it wasn't, it