Tonight, I felt her snucked on my room.
She sat at the edge of my bed,
eyes filled with tears,
skin as pale as the first morning of December.
She mouthed two words again and again.
'I'm sorry,' she said.
'I'm sorry.'
I reached for her hand,
and God, they were cold.
'It's okay,' I said.
But she didn't hear me.
She didn't
hear me.
