words
there are so many things i could say to you. but the words that i come up with most are, "i'm sorry." it wasn't my fault, but i take the blame. was there more i could do? more i could say? none of it would have made a difference. we would still be here, apart, forever. you're with me now, in a different way. that's what i hear, what they tell me. those words do not fill the void, the loneliness i feel without your presence here. there is a silence, now. a grey, dull emptiness that nothing fills. does time fill the hole? will i ever become whole again? or am i left broken, permanently fragmented, learning to live as a broken record that still plays? I feel selfish moving forward, yet powerful, too. the power i have to take control, to live. but to live, to live and breathe while you are dead is a battle i fight often. it shouldn't be you. it should never have been you. your warm hands quickly turned cold. your skin firm and damp. your breath