Burdens on your shoulders
Pain in my arms
I'm so sorry
Tears don't reach you
Help never calls
Relief hasn't come
I haven't heard it
Oblivious to what I've tried desperately to forget... to leave behind me
When will it all come back
When do I get the 8th, 9th chance
I've failed so miserably at my promises
at my empty dreams
No one has given me the Hand
I haven't found the Hope
Hiding in the darkness Dreaming in the black velvet
Nothing ever happens
Nothing has even remotely changed
Deserted on the island - my island
Lying in a heap
Rain showering upon me
Dreanching me throughout
Washed out, a shallow pook -
i have become -
And I can't stop it
Stop the life, the... the dying
Voices so helpless
Words gone in a flash
Meaningless to all, or some
or maybe just a few?
Caring, do you
Coming, when
Burdens on your shoulders
Blood on my forearms
I'm so sorry
Words don't come easily
...like sorry ...like sorry
Reason for writing:
I have this habit now, that after I have cut myself, I will call my friend.
I burden him with my sobs and desperate thoughts, feelings.
I hate burdening, hurting him, and I didn't know how else to say how I felt
about myself and about him.
I didn't know how else to say I'm sorry.
Birth sign: Not entered
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