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Bars
June 15, 2009
As I sit behind these three walls and one cell door
I wish I were not here anymore.
My mind is racing how many ways can I kill myself?
I can slit my wrist,
And paint with my blood until I can’t move anymore.
I wish I were not here anymore,
Or maybe bang my head on the floor
Until I split my head open,
That’s because life’s no good anymore,
I wish I were not here anymore.
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