I slit my wrists and tears fall.
Salty tears mix with blood.
My heart.
My pain.
Maybe when there's no blood left,
And all the tears have been spilt,
Maybe I'll forgive myself.
But I'll never live again.
I let go of the part of me,
That let me live when I let go of you.
Now I only catch glimpses of the real world.
But it's not real, it is?
The world is a lie.
Life is a lie.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem