Never have been spoken are the words of my attempted suicides or the amount of blood that I have shed. This maybe the end or the beginning to my life only Sunday will unlock the secret. Is my newest car the hearse going to be my last one with one final ride or the start of something great? The hearse has many scratches and chunks of the paint are missing but it just reflects my body and my soul. I only hope that the paint will glisten in the sun like the blood on the razor blade did in the moonlight. With time only one might know but for me I will never know. For the blood glistened to well in the moon light and never stopped.