Monday, December 14, 2009

Toward Nothing

I am sorry to make you bothered;
sorry to mess up your world,
sorry to disappoint you,
sorry to put you down,
sorry to pull you hard...
If only I could choose myself,
I wouldn't be here, breathing next to you
I hadn't have to make you mad,
I know I am unwanted
Nobody sees me
Neither you do,
I really do promise to make you proud of this stupid woman,
To prove that I am existing and my dreams are about to be true
I want you to believe me
Whatever ignorance is the crown,
it's all on your hands
I am sorry to disgust your life,
Like repeatedly sorries won't change a thing
Thus I would say:

Wished that God didn't make suicide as a sin...

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