click of the trigger
if i died (by shooting a bullet into my head), will
you be willing to cry (for me)? though it would
be too late for you to say you're sorry because
i'm so close to the fucking edge that scarring
myself (for you) isn't enough anymore. and i
trace your initials into my skin over and over again
as a reminder of who left me like this (even though
it's so hard to forget). i should have never put
so much trust in all your lies & broken promises
but then again, i didn't know we would end up like this.
if you want me to say that i am sorry then could
you (please) tell me what i have(n't) done wrong?
because i just can't seem to find my faults (although
i found yours so quickly). but with this gun
i could end my (everlasting) pain and suffering
and with bloody hands, i'll bring it to my head
and with the click of the trigger (and your filthy name
on my lips) everything could end. but i'm still living for
the day when you tell me that you are sorry
and then maybe i could just die happy.
February 12, 2006
this is really pathetic. i've succumb to writing crap now.