I’d rather be dead. 4/24/04

If I don’t pick this razor up

I’ll never finish this.

With every reminder

With every kiss

My blood burns colder

Longing for the cut

I can’t see you.

See you in any part of me

But these scars.

These scars show.

You were everything to me

If I let this bottle drop

The poison won’t have its way

One more drink and you’re erased from yesterday.

I can’t touch you.

Touch you the way I did.

But I can still feel you.

Screaming through the inside.

If I lay down and fall asleep

Will I awake in your bed?

I can’t have that

I won’t risk this

I’d rather be dead.

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