(no subject)
My soul wilts; like a wilted flower.
My eyes tear; like a dripping faucet.
My heart is broken; and it will never heal. (until next week, when i get a new life partner)
I take the knife in my hand.
I press it against the soft flesh that my wrists posess.
I still recall the taste of your tears.
I died my hair black to match my tormented soul.
I weep for you. i bleed for you.
I shall never love again.
I am emo kid; hear me roar.
--Poem by Shapiro and Lasicka
(oh how you kids make me laugh)