There are times when I can't think, can't breathe, can't write, can't sleep because all that I am is consumed by you. You fill my head, circle my throat, cripple my hand, and blink negative behind my eyelids.
But you're not here anymore and I can't just walk up to you, look in your eyes (I've heard they look just like mine), and tell you to go haunt someone else.
But I can't help but hope that maybe somewhere, somehow, my voice is carrying through the air to the sea to the stars, and you'll hear me screaming, "STOP. I GET IT. I'M SORRY!"
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