She’s gone. She’s gone and I can’t do anything about it. I never spoke my last words to her, or at least not the ones I wish I had spoken to her.
My heart’s in shambles and the pieces are trying to cut and kill me from the inside. It’s hard to breath and my eyes never want to stop flowing and this is real pain.
The porcelain bowl that my fingers are tightly grasping is a cold comfort and I can’t seem to get it out. I can’t seem to purge this regret. I can’t seem to clean out my system because she wasn’t just inside of me.
She was my whole world.