A locked door, a rusty razor, a towel stained with red. A folded note, a broken mirror and a young girl lays there dead. Their emotions tangle, the room begins to swirl. She was mommy's perfect angel and daddy's little girl.
Cut, burn, pull, scratch. Break some glass and strike a match. Pop the pills and take a drink. Watch your blood run down the sink. Gone are the voices in your head. But now you're close to being dead.
Death must be beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head and listen to the silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.
A shot to kill the pain, A pill to drain the shame, A purge to stop the gain, A cut to break the vein, A smoke to ease the crave, A drink to win the game, Because it always hurts the same.
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Over mijzelf
Ik ben V., en gebruik soms ook wel de schuilnaam Hope.
Ik ben een vrouw en woon in (België) en mijn beroep is .
Ik ben geboren op 25/05/1998 en ben nu dus 27 jaar jong.
Mijn hobby's zijn: .
