I always liked the sound of ticking clocks. This is what I thought as the sharp blade sliced my skin, splitting the veins of my wrist, making blood flow down my arm in a crimson waterfall. But I didn't feel it. I only heard the sound of the ticking clock. Even as I fell to the bathroom floor, my blood spilling across the room, over every surface, as I breathed my last breath and saw the last light I would ever see, The tick tock of the clock was my lullaby, putting me to sleep. Finally.
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Death makes life easier
RandomShe plays with her skin like a violin Armed with a shiny metal bow She moves back and forth Tone deaf as death This music has no beauty to show Passion is bled with no words said For this song is just instrumental And when the girl falls Down Witho...
