The Reason I Am

Here I am, dragging the cold, bloody, dead corpse of my past self across the used-to-be shiny white tiles.
I’m not sure where I can put you right now, but I know you deserve a significant and proper burial.
You served your life so well, and yet things still ended this way.
You made your mistakes, but everyone does, and yet you still had to die.
I know it’s my fault this happened.
I did this to you.
You were so innocent and kind, caring and loving, wonderfully amazing.
You didn’t deserve everything you went through.
I don’t know if you’d be proud or disgusted with what I’ve become since your death.
I mean your death was the reason I was born…

I hope you can forgive me.
I wish with everything in me I could bring you back and put you in charge again.
You were so happy when you were alive.
You brought smiles and happiness, affection and love, flowers and blue skies.
And now it’s gone, all of it.
I’m sorry it ended like this.
It shouldn’t have.
You didn’t deserve to die how you did.
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry…