2003-07-17
maybe
think of a thousand pieces of glass cutting your wrists into beautiful little strips that make the crimson blood run down your arm and onto the snow white carpet
you stare and wonder if living like this is meant to happen to you, maybe someone in the higher scheme of things got you mixed up with someone else,
all this rage and hell you're going through was supposed to happen to someone you're never going to meet
or maybe you will meet them, in heaven when you're both dead and gone, you because you couldnt take it anymore and the glass cut deeper and deeper until it severed one of those deliciously red veins, and them because maybe karma does come around again
thissidedown at 6:57 p.m.