I know that I'm here because it's silent; That I can fell the blank lines with sadnes; That the space wasant mine; But I will be here sometimes.
But I know that the past is a cruel history; I will not lie and say that I had good memoryes; But the sea of blood darker than ink; Makes me see that I had poor choices in times.
I will not denie him his blood anymore; I will not dinie his flesh anymore; I will not have him suffer because of friendly faces anymore; I will make smiles from pain; And good memoryes from clossing my wounds.
And kissing the history of my scars good bye.













