The love you gave, the memories we've made
Cut deeper than any knife, and every blade
I'm bleeding from inside,
I would rather be dead.
YOU ARE READING
Two Years Late
PoetryA collection of moments where rhyming was necessary. Short, simple poetry; yet, those who relate - too many. Weird titles for humor, but that doesn't make the poem experience less painful. Those titles are painful to me though. You'll see.
Would You Cry At My Funeral?
The love you gave, the memories we've made
Cut deeper than any knife, and every blade
I'm bleeding from inside,
I would rather be dead.
