"I hate you..."

that's what I said.

Right before,

he was dead.

Concerned,

that's what he was.

For my safety,

for our love.

Always the one,

who looked for me,

Always the one,

my fantasy.

Always there,

by my side.

Always there,

I didn't know why.

I loved him,

and he loved me.

it was all the beginning,

of our own little dream.

But one day,

Me and him were stressed out.

And all we were able to do,

was shout.

I said I hated him.

And he went to the bar.

Only to be found dead

in his car.

Our own dream,

once filled with light...

you got to wake up sometimes...

...in the middle of the night...

aik0h: okay...i think i'm writing too many death poems >_