My head hangs from open-ended fears that rush through my head. "You’re digging your self a big hole.” I was told. To that I say, "I'm planting a flower" A flower made of things no one can understand, fears left to the imagination and what not to be. I have things under control, Leave me to myself and I will succeed.
Call it the first written suicide, The rebirth of a 18-year-old girl, A death with no real beginning and one final ending.
My hands are shaking from my never-ending passion to win. Strike out the boundaries leaving me with my self, alone, again. Thick white lines outline the way to live...and me, a nobody. Will burn the boundaries, destroy the outline for life and redefine your way of thinking.
Call it the first written suicide, The rebirth of a 18-year-old girl, A death with no real beginning and one final ending. Call it the first written suicide...