death not being the way
by: kit
i held the knife to my heart, like a foolish child, as i sat and cried.i did not relize what i had done, what i had tried to do..my tears mixed with my blood, i was falling down slowly to the ground, covered with my own blood, i pulled myself up in tears and scribed" im sorry" on the wall.i didnt know if any body would cry at my funeral, i noticed a shape at the door running towards me, i felt someones hands hold my head, and i heard crying. i knew then that i was really sorry for what i had done, i was loved, but i didnt see it.
freakshoww Community Member 
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