World.

Never did you say goodbye

and I have yet to asked you why.

Before you left,

you packed my heart,

I call it theft,

you call it art.

Well here I am.

Trying to pick up where we left off.

So I ask myself,

What will work?

A blade?

A promise made.

A rope?

I try to cope.

Press.

Don't be surprised

When I give up on you,

So long.

Slit.

You created

my monsters.