When I work with people they make me to kiss silence even though I’m right and this knocks me dead.

Another fix, sleeping pills aren’t enough, starvation, hell not even a broken heart is enough for me to get off any more, a masochist wanting desperately to play sadist. Goodbye Is My New High… death has to be that ultimate high.

First part: A Letter to Love.

A poem I wrote for my dearly beloved, ******* *********.

A death resulting from a drunk driver can hurt anyone, but what if you were in that car? Sitting next to your best friend, too drunk to care the one driving was drunk as well…both of them on the left side, you on the right, as the car is wrapped around a murderous tree that takes the lives of both of your close friends… What if you were the only one that survived?

A short poem about a man who decides it will be a good idea to release pent up anger by cutting himself. He grows to enjoy the pain, and continues, eventually killing himself.

Matter of opinion.

Wrote this on a whim.

A short and sweet answer to another very powerful poem written by John Paul. Who is this guy?