PMMurphy

my views... are hollow incantations recited at my burial. my suicide was merely provoked from her face, glancing on my own. the day she decided it was over, over the blessings of tomorrow the blessings of us. i wrote tempered ideas in poetic reason for the days numbered on my calendar are simply just fabrication they create the rope that i used as a noose around my neck... the words rang of freedom between us between our notion that tomorrows are never quite the same as today. we don't understand what tomorrow brings, but i understand what you brought even though my words will never escape my darkness.