**Another TW **


Anytime I think of dying
Burning yearning in my chest
I think of different methods
And who will clean the mess

Will it be my husband
And will it break his mind
Will he find me bled out dry
And clean what I left behind

Will it be my daughter
And will she run and hide
Will she clutch and hold me
Afraid to leave my side

Will it be my son
And will he understand
The mess I made, laying there
Was made from my own hand

Will it be my sister
And will crush her soul
To find me wasted, dead and gone
And swinging from a pole

It stops my thoughts completely
To think of what would be
And who would find my shell
And have to clean up after me



📞 : 988 (USA)

© SKM