"Stomach in knots, easing them out with throwing up, build it all back up again. Headache sets, easing it out with a gun to my head, pick up the pieces. Life loses it's wonder, and you don't know what you're here for. When you're caught at the wrong place at the wrong time, everyday, death is a mere step. These are the days when I could end it all."
Friday, July 31, 2009
Just about.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment