Final Thoughts

I lost.

It wasn't a game. There were no teams. This was personal. It was. Then he came back and slid his hands into your mind. You spit up life and lessons. Both your eyes bore holes into his ghost as you silently kissed my hand. Something in the way you leaned said your heart was breaking free. I couldn't hold on. I'm sorry.

Some say to win you have to lose. I believe it. I've lived it.

Your fingers once ripped their way into mine. I got scared. I'm not scared to admit it, but, God, was I scared to feel it. My knees trembled in the wake of what I knew was to come. I should have listened to the voice in my head. Keep her safe, keep her warm, keep her friend. I was not as strong as I appeared. I was nothing. I was scared.

Find me.

Those sheets we lay beneath lay stained when our bodies rose. Every night I lay there in my grave. The smell of dignity rose sweet from the places where it lay, forgotten. The only thing that kept it there was regret. Your eyes grew foggy at the sight of me and I grew weary of your knives. I felt the daggers of your tongue as they slid violently inside.

I think it's best we don't talk. There's nothing left to be said.