• I have the knife in my hand, the blood on the floor.
    I thought you loved me, I was wrong.
    Why did you leave me with the knife, did I do something wrong?
    Was it just me? It can't be that.
    How did it end...I cannot speak.
    Where is the blood coming from? My chest? Or my throat?
    Or maybe my heart.
    Why do you care..You stabbed it.