I found her.
Asleep forever.
Pills lined up.
And a spilled cup.
Suicidal Love.
I loved her.
Too much.
She's cold to the touch.
A knife on the table.
Her neck wrapped with a cable.
Suicidal Love.
I loved her.
Slitted wrists pouring blood.
She is a lifeless rose bud.
A gun still loaded.
Where the blood is coated.
Suicidal Love.
I didn't love her enough.
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