Death of a friend
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I see an empty body I see empty eyes I feel the cold skin I hear desperate lies He sits too still His car in park His telephone buzzes Flashes light, then dark
Message seen 3:04 am, September 15.
Slash at my arms, my legs, my throat What God is there to pray to that creates such emotions as this. I pray. To not feel, I search for a void to I search for a void I search for
I don't know how it happened How you dissapeared One minute here The next Gone You hit the person in front of you We all assumed you didn't do it We made up stories
The news rang in my ears I didn't know how to accept it "She's brain dead" I hear it over and over A constant reminder I can still see your face Hear your voice Promising me I'll be okay
The butterfly flys My butterfly fly with me I will fly with you
A butterfly lands perched upon its conceit palace. As his wings sway in the gentle breeze of things. He has the wind beneath him. The word beneath that.
Angel, you lay there cold, still In that pure white casket. Not a single breath passes from your perfect, pink lips. Your long blonde hair cascades down your back and is a perfect halo around your beautiful face.