I killed her

I am a murdered

I remember her last breath.

That last breath. She was always so kind. I remember the way she looked at me. She wore a dead smile but even there... there was a smile. Small, broken, hurt, maybe fake, but it was there. It always was.

I remember the way her eyes glimmered that night.

Forever soft, and like the deep blue see, they held a terrifying depth, dark, alone, and fascinating, in it’s way. Tears wetted them. Always so soft.

I remember her voice.

Nothing could compare to it. The softest thing you’d ever hear, it was like the music of a piano played in an empty manor. Played, but not for anyone to hear. Beautiful, but full of suffering. If only someone had stopped to hear it, they would've fallen in love, but nobody ever did.

I remember her last words.

"I'm sorry"

She was always apologizing. Always being sorry, and yet, she had no reason to be. In her whole life she had never hurt a single heart, never shut a hurting soul.

I ended her.

I killed her for someone so delicate and fragile could not live in this world. She was innocent, pure, too much for a world full of hate and darkness.

I killed her.

I will always remember her. The way she seemed smaller every day, the way her voice faded away.

I knew her.

I knew her, I saw her in her best and worst moments. I saw her when she fell apart and when she build herself back up, and I knew her. I knew her perfectly because I saw her everyday in the mirror.

I am a murderer.

I am a murderer for I have killed a girl I used to be.

There’s blood in my hands but I learned from her and the once pure heart is now made of ice.