Wrote it after a party. . . its wierd I know

Jun 25, 2005 23:28

It lays there, on the floor
The remains of my heart
Torn and bloody
The cold smirk rests upon her face
Am I to blame?
Continuously drawn into her trap?
I'm left here with the gaping hole in my chest
Kill me, finish it,
Why won't she finish it?
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