My conscience disappeared
for perhaps a few years.
I never meant to hurt you,
but I never knew
what she would want me to do.
She was sick, I told myself
she would never be well
again, this is what took her home,
through pearly gates all her own.
I thought she was leaving me alone.
But the evidence on the screen
punishes and reminds me
that the monsters in my head,
these monsters I so dread,
were born inside her lifeless bed.
I clutched the pillow case
and pressed hard against her face.
I told myself I love her
I told myself there’s no cure.
Nothing but hollow words.
Laura, the sickness killed her.
Laura, the sickness killed me.
Laura, mental sickness
got the best of me.
My sickness used hers
as a means to an end.
Laura, I never knew you well.
Laura, I’m heading for hell.
You tell me this for making a
heartbeat slowly fade away.
I can’t erase yesterday.
And as you run and scream and cry,
I slowly start realizing why
I never felt the pain before
I never opened up the door
I never thought about her more.
You were a figment from a dream,
and I had to hear your scream
to remind me of my evil past.
Things moved too fast.
I wake up and try to slowly walk
away from this malevolent mock-
reality that’s causing me
to lose touch with what’s really
me–here and there and nobody.
You have no reason to believe me
when I tell you I am sorry, Laura.
But just know that if I had it all to do again,
I’d want Mary’s last breath to be in my arms
and not beneath my clenched fists.