Are those our pictures on the wall? So happy, so dumb. What we were like before the spark was gone, before I used forbidden words. I opened Pandora's box, and everything afterwords became a blur. So here I sit on a dark evening months after, brooding. Knife to my wrist, noose to my neck, waiting for the call that will never come, looking at the pictures that make me think. It's too bad blood stains, because I wanted to be able to start clean.
It's so sad, all this after looking at a quote. Why would this come to be? What could have destroyed this relationship?
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It's life, what can you do?
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JAMblast
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