Poezja

im dead now,
and its all your fault.
you hurt me one,
to many times

tonight is the night,
i end my life,
in our bed.

i slit my wrist,
till the red liquid,
in side me starts to pour.

but i dont cry,
i wont shed a tear.
when you come home,
youll find me here.

just lying here,
our bed filled
filled with blood
well now i say goodbye.