My makeup is starting to smear
It is pretty clear No one seems to care
And my heart is starting to ware
I just want an end here
I bet no one would even shed a tear
It seems to me if I want someone to care,
My time must be up,
for breathing air.
YOU ARE READING
Emily's journal
Puisiamazing poems about life, cutting and hope written by Emily an amazing person and one of the best writer i have ever known (not written by me)
