i uttered those three words.
gently, softly spoken.
it was 3 am and the only sound that drifted through the room was the rasp in my i's.
i remember you looking at me and smiling,
only to softly whisper them back to me.
thank you..
thank you for loving me.

im rotting away in this hell of mine

i'll never be able to replace the scars i left you,
with beautiful flowers, roses of course.

i'll never be able to hold your shaking hands again,
with such firmness and admiration.

i'll never be able to say i'm sorry and cover the wounds i left.

i'm sorry.
i should've been better.

this isn't me.
the reflection i see in the mirror cannot be the case that surrounds me.
this just isn't right.
i see my hands moving, i see my eyes blinking,
but that simply cant be.
this just isn't me.