Bam.
There goes the bullet. In her head.
That's all she needs; she is not wise.
She is empty.
She needs to leave.
Her world is hectic, anyways.
No one can leave her alone.
All she wants is peace.
The only way she can get it, is if she leaves.
The world is no place for a lost soul.
The world isn't going to stop, just because she can't find her way.
I'd rather swallow my fate, instead of carrying an imbecilic feeling.
Bam.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...
