I'm layin on the floor, my wrists are bleeding, more and more. it's not blood of red, but black like my soul. there's no hope now, for what i've done. a razor in my hand, and cuts in every direction. i warned them all, but still no show of affection. i wanted them to stay, but now they're gone, and soon i will be to. because when depression took over, it infected my body, and mind, for the rest of my time. i have the blades, now it's so sad that my wrists are bleeding, so very bad. all i can do, is whisper goodbye, now that i'm crying. as i lay here, so slowly dying.
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1/17/2021 4:18:09 AM # 1.0.0.396