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Suicide NoteAll I ask is, when I die, please do remember me
Not for things I've done and not for things I've heard or seen
Not for what I seemed to be, not even for the truth
Not for what I have accomplished in my shortened youth
Please, just let my feelings hit the cold, damp, moldy floor
I know my emotions didn't matter much before
All I ask is, when I die, don't worry over pain…
All I ask is, when I die, just treat me much the same…
Good Enough... for YOU.As I sit here cradling the blade in my hands
Treasuring the moments I wish that I had
I can't stop growing more lost and confused
I can't stop thinking... am I good enough for you?
As I sit here, wrapping the rope around my neck
No one will understand a meaning so complex
I simply can't stop thinking about it somehow
Thinking, am I good enough for you now?
As I sit here, pulling the trigger on the gun
I think, maybe I was never meant for "the one"...
goes the bullet.
For when I think it through...
I really won't ever be good enough for you.
Best DiseaseWaves crash through the emptiness that fills the air around
Beating rocks upon the shore with silence as their sound
Sunset melts across the sky and paints the clouds with color
Lying there beside you, something wondrous like no other
Suddenly, the blades start slicing through my very skin
Every knife upon your tongue that came from far within
Running through the thickest forest, dirt rests in my cuts
Throwing knives into my flesh, the blade coated in rust
And though you are the one that scarred me, brought me to my pain
I continue dreaming of our kiss inside the rain
Maybe you have broken me, and maybe you’re impure.
But your love is the best disease, and you’re the only cure.
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More