This is not the first death
And it is sure not to be the last.
Simply another piece of emptiness
I have collected from my past.
Yet I mourn so quietly
And the body is not even cold.
I may kiss her dying lips
But I could never be so bold.
Eyes that once could only focus
On her existence, her life,
Now train themselves to see the sickness
And ignore her helpless cries.
I have pity, I have insanity, I have tears
But I cannot let her live.
She is helplessness and fear
And I have nothing left to give.
Would she call me heartless
Or would she understand?
It doesn’t matter now
I have her blood on my hands.
I am sorry I am silent
I cannot speak of her anymore
I never thought this would last
So it is this grief I will ignore.