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depressed sad suicide words thoughts dead depressing poem deadly poems
Was it hard letting go of him? It was, and it wasn’t because I missed him, because who he is right now isn’t who I miss, I don&r...
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I was seven years old when my teacher told me that the most colorful insects were also the most venomous ones and I was sixteen years old wh...
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She’s the type of girl who would hold you while you cry and stay up all night just to make sure that you’re okay, even if she’s the one brea...
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I’m not one to hold hands, but baby when you told me you wanted to die, I held your hand so tight that the bones in my wrist molded in...