Wrong time, wrong place

September 30, 2007
By Angela Vanella Vanella, Port St. Lucie, FL

Wrong time, wrong place,
when I close my eyes I see your face.
Your pains haunt me,
I can't be free.
It's all I can do to stay alive,
my heart's beating slower all the time.
Your eyes blank, your face pale,
your pierce heart tells the tale.
Blood on the floor,
enslavement at the door.
I'm running away from what I've done,
the headlines recite another broken heart pun.
My name beside yours,
my picture in all the stores.
They'll find my last note,
and see it's my heart that broke.
My last request
is to be laid to rest,
my body next to yours.
As they carry me through the doors,
I hope they'll understand,
this is not what I had planned.
Killing you was not supposed to be,
suicide was my apology.


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