The silence is deafening me my love, the lack of pounding in your heart drilling holes into me. How can they not save you my love? How can they not save me? If pain is love then cut me up for that will hurt less, than watching you leave me, kill me my love for to do so is to take away my last breath. If death is rest and tears can be kept, then lay me down into the ground surrounded by a million of yours. For if pain is love, then I must be love because the pain is consuming me, crushing my soul, tearing my family apart. Free me from this suffering but do not turn your back and call me selfish in the darkness of the night. Because I fought, I fought, I did fight. But I cannot breathe when you aren’t in the room, for you’re the one who held me in your womb. If to be close to you one last time, is to be pricked by a needle a thousand times, then prick me, a thousand more. Surrounded by meaningless apologies and empty goodbyes, to hug you one last time, I would lay down my life.



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