Windows
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
In memory of my best friend, Tatum.
What did I do that is so wrong?
Nobody cares,
I'm already long gone.
But what if somebody did?
They cared about me.
Oh well.
That was a problem when I was a little kid.
But who else could say,
That they felt this way?
Maybe I could take this knife,
And slowly,
Painfully,
End my life.
I watch my blood drip on the floor.
But I have to hurry.
There is a knock on the door.
I take the knife and cut my hair.
I don't give a damn.
I just don't care.
I look out the window.
The people below are so busy,
So free.
But screw them,
This is my story.
I look behind me to say goodbye.
Then I jump out
With one final cry.
(If some were wondering, Tatum did not pass away this way. I just thought of her while I wrote this.)