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Rated: · Poetry · Dark · #1442340
Um... Suicidal junk..? Personally, I don't get the point of suicide.
Dead or alive? Alive or dead?
Lying motionless on her bed
Out of her lips, not enough was said
To express who she is, who she was

Hate and loneliness has consumed her
And she could no longer remember
Good memories, now lost forever
Lost in the abyss she calls her heart

She went up the roof, she needed air
A cold wind blew and lifted her hair
She wanted to scream but did not dare
Thus the night is her only witness

She knew the stars and moon would not say
To anyone her little display
And she’s sure the trees would not dismay
To keep silent and tell not once more

On the edge of the roof, there she could see
The city lights, yet she felt empty
She sighed to the wind, “Remember me
Forever keep me in your mem’ry”

She stepped off the roof, she wanted to soar
But she fell, her body turned sore
She found herself in front of Death’s door
Then she was gone, she was no more...

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