Painting broad strokes of black brings blood down my head.
I can’t handle anymore phone calls telling me another friend is dead.
I miss your laugh and I miss your smile.
It’d be nice to hear from you every once in a while but you’re gone.
I will never be able to ask how you’ve been
or where you or or how could i lose another friend?
I tried to destroy me too.
Hell only knows what i’ve been through.
So i left my regrets at the foot of my bed
and I promised when i’m older, I wouldn’t forget
how to cut myself open just to rinse myself clean again.
Your death hangs over my every move.
Everything is a constant reminder of you.
So you haunt me, so that I can haunt you too.
I can haunt you too if you want me too.
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