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Elle tire elle-meme sur la tete.

I long for the caress of your cold hard metal against my cheek,
From the mouth or to the temple?
Either would suffice.

Of all the reoccurring thoughts,
Six words ring out in my mind,
"She shot herself in the head."

Dead.

Author notes

Fiction.

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Comments


  • Tekno Suicide
    July 22, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    Damn,all I can say is that this is a very powerful,yet dangerous poem.