I’m sorry, love, for what I’ve done.
I didn’t think you’d stay.
You seemed to feel the need to run
to somewhere far away.

So, it did not hurt me to say goodbye.
No one was there to care.
I had no reasons left to try
inhaling any air.

I warmed my arm and grabbed my knife;
death shouldn’t have to wait.
But, you came back to be my wife.
By then it was too late.

You weren’t supposed to play a part
in this dreadful scene wherein
the night I broke your heart
was the same night I broke my skin.