He looks at me like I'm some angel that fell from the sky.
He's telling me that he loves me, but does he? He can't love
me. 'cause I can't love him. I can't love myself. In my life
pieces of my heart were taken from me until one piece left
with all the bad things: the hate and the anger the black in
my blood l can feel it moving through my veins to my brain
from there to my words.. I can't talk about love and I hate
it and I hate he can't see that. I've been thinking about it
in the past year
I think... actually I know that's the right thing to do.
The knife is in my hand. It's hot and I feel hurt. I can't
feel my breathing

I didn't want to kill myself. I wanted to release the black
in my blood
I didn't mean for that to happen.
I didn't mean for him to see me.
But it was too late. He cried. It was the first time I saw
him cry. He was so sad- he cried for me everyday. He put
flowers and candles... so many candles. Why did I die? He
could have been so happy. My family was sad too... too sad.
Now I'm looking in their eyes there's a lot of sadness.
He came everyday and I saw him I wanted to hold him so much
but he walked right through me. After a few days he stopped
coming.
After a month he came with my brother... I was so happy.

He looks at me like I'm some angel that fell from the sky.
Telling me that he loves me...
He can love me...
He does...