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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Romance/Love >> ID #692776 |
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I found her.
Asleep forever. Pills lined up. And a spilled cup. Suicidal Love. I loved her. Too much. She's cold to the touch. A knife on the table. Her neck wrapped with a cable. Suicidal Love. I loved her. Slitted wrists pouring blood. She is a lifeless rose bud. A gun still loaded. Where the blood is coated. Suicidal Love. I didn't love her enough.
© Copyright 2003 Fiona Rossel (UN: magique at Writing.Com).
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