I take this knife,
Forever to hold.
It is my friend-
My heart, my soul.
When i get down,
Or i get depressed-
I pull it out,and
Hold it to my chest.
My blood pounds,
Inside of my head.
I caress it gently,
And sit on my bed.
It kisses the veins,
That lay in my wrists.
I slowly lean back,
And unclench my fists.
Till death do us part,
My knife and me.
When my life ends,
This is how it will be. |