This will not kill me
I have died maybe twice in my life
Once by the slit of my own wrist
And once by the sound of her voice
Although the two cannot compare
They both hurt identically
And although one only looks bad
The other comes back when I am weak
But just like those times before
This will not kill me
For I will not let it
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Enough To Frame
PoetryTwo years in the making. Two years of my life put into words. There is nothing more left to say.
