Prose: Sometimes I Fear

Times fly by, but feelings stay the same. My heart
isn't yours, so let it go. I want to scream. Wake you
up. Please wake up, I didn't mean it. I didn't know
it was loaded. I'm sorry, I'm so damn sorry. But the
blood is on the bedsheets, and I'm sorry won't fix
it. I don't know what to do. You did this. I did
this. It doesn't even fucking matter. It's done. The
blood is on the bedsheets, and I fear the bleeding
won't heal. The heart has hit the shredder but
mine's not yours to steal. I see the love hate in
your eyes burn, but I can't even look at you any
more. You don't have my pity. Your lips are blood
-stained, but your love is still unexplained. I don't
want this. I want to run away. I want to leave. I
want you to be okay. I care, but the blood is on the
bedsheets, and it's coming just too fast. The words
are in my mind, but they are a bit aghast.You leave
me only one option, and I think it might be right.
Just hold the gun to you, and pull the trigger tight.