I don't know
How she could lie
With the cuts on her wrists
And the strain marks on her fists.
I don't know
How she could cry
When it was her to pry
Open her bleeding heart.
I don't know
How she could laugh
With the saddness in her eyes
And the darkness inside.
But I held onto
Those thoughts so tight
The night that..
She died.
View User's Journal
My Journal-thingy..
This is a place for my poems, and other meaningless things...
 |
