And if I can abandon compassion and if I can abandon hope, would it make me less human? Would it make me a ghost?

I'm trying to reconcile the difference between the things in my head: the inconceivable anger and the thoughts about death.

And this brutish indifference and that bitter betrayal. The loves long forgotten and how that same love always failed.

And I can picture your reaction; how you wouldn't even react at all. Because when you left here,
you left me.