In the aftermath of a night of revelry, I return to a room steeped in scarlet,

A canvas of crimson, walls echoing with the silence of a night gone awry.

Rose petals lie scattered, a trail of velvet sorrow,

A figure lies still, a silent witness to a tomorrow that will never come.

My heart races, a captive drum, pounding in my chest,

Palms slick, a cold sweat betrays a fear that clings, uninvited.

The air hangs heavy, a shroud that suffocates with each breath,

The scent of death and iron greet my nostrils,

As I stand before the bed, where the end begins, and life seems to withdraw.

The woman on the bed, a still figure cloaked in death's embrace,

Her face, a familiar enigma, a puzzle pieced with my own grace.

I reach out with a trembling hand,, to the cold that awaits my touch,

Feeling death's weight, suffocating me, crushing my bones.

Turning her over, I'm met with my own eyes, empty of their dance,

Blonde hair, once a radiant crown, now a crimson wreathed in shadows.

Fingernails, caked with the earth, tell stories of a desperate claw,

Track marks, constellations of pain, visible proof of a life in darkness.

And there, adorning the center of her chest,

where a heart once beat, a void, an abyss that bleeds,

Eyes, once Bright, now glossy and vacant,

Crystal blue mirrors that reflect my own emptiness.

I am the girl in the midst of the rose petals.

My body goes numb as I sink to the floor,

Tears stain my cheeks, fist clinched in agony.

The truth, a weight that drowns me in its tide.

How could this be? Who did this to me?

Then I realize, I did this to me.

I lay my head on my own gaping hollow chest,

Taste the iron on my lips as I cry.

Tears mix with blood, as I stroke my matted hair.

I hold myself close as I scream up at the sky.

‘’Why, God? Why?’’

I look into the eyes of my own self one last time,

Close the once bright eyes and whisper,

‘’I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.’’