Because it brings me back you
My last words of him are gone. A tear soaked plain paper page to absorb all my sorrows and leave me empty for a while is gone, because razors love alabaster skin, and blood loves to flow.
Damien killed himself Sunday night. He called me to tell me he loved me, and that he didn't know what he had been thinking, and that he wasn't sure he'd make it through the night.
And he didn't.
I wish to be in that cold bed with him so badly. For dead lips to bind together, my hands and face wrapped in thin linen sheets, my body wrapped in a bag. I want to be with him now. I could have kissed the poison out of him and into me, and I would not be troubled now.
I cannot stand the way this world works, where his beautiful black eyes will never see the night they stand for ever again.
I love you.
School now.
Fuck.
Damien killed himself Sunday night. He called me to tell me he loved me, and that he didn't know what he had been thinking, and that he wasn't sure he'd make it through the night.
And he didn't.
I wish to be in that cold bed with him so badly. For dead lips to bind together, my hands and face wrapped in thin linen sheets, my body wrapped in a bag. I want to be with him now. I could have kissed the poison out of him and into me, and I would not be troubled now.
I cannot stand the way this world works, where his beautiful black eyes will never see the night they stand for ever again.
I love you.
School now.
Fuck.