I'll close my eyes and let go
Of all the memories we made
I'll let them flow away
Like the blood from this blade
I see her in your arms
And it cuts me to the quick
There isn't much that hurts me more
Now my wrist is feeling slick
I don't do it for attention
YOU ARE READING
The Fear of Drowning Deep
PoetryShe was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful something to be admired from a distance not up close. - A little talent is a good thing to have if you ever want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every...
