Losing someone you love
is almost as hard as watching them die.
Knowing it's your fault
is almost unbearable.
Now your a walking corpse
consumed by your own guilt.
As if you could feel
seeing as how your numb inside,
empty inside,
just a shell,
waiting to die,
hoping its soon.
You see with unseeing eyes,
talk in dead languages,
and breathe stale air
knowing, always knowing,
there were multiple ways
to give your life
instead of sacrificing his.
But it's too late to rewrite history.
