Journal: Sickly
-------------------------------------------Mood: Sick
I have no life.
I feel like shit.
The walls are closing in on my throat. I find it hard to breathe at all, and with each breath the less chance I'll breathe next time.
Everything hurts.
I want her here with me. Only me. But, she's left me.
Atleast not for good.
...Created 2006-02-17 10:32:53 [ View Past Journals ] [ View as Blog ] |
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