MY LAST BREATH      By SJ
		The scars bled across my wrist, All the wounds from the love of life i now miss, The tears that run down my face each day, each night, Are the actions for the troubled words I would not say. The empty space inside my heart of sorrow and pain, Is the truth knowing that I'm to blame. As I look back on my life of misery and strife, I go to the kitchen and take out the sharpest knife No one knows I feel this way, I guess that's what I wanted, The warm embrace of my mothers arms, watered. Nobody to turn to, No-ones shoulder to cry on, It will all be over soon, Not long, I think long and hard wether the right answer is death, Even though I take the blade and take my last breath.