The Little Things Give You Away

Sit down. Breathe. Bury your head in your knees. Cover them with your arms. Now bleed. Bleed through your eyes. Bleed through your tears. Bleed like you've never bled before, and then keep bleeding. As the wind howls and blows against the top of your head, brushing against your hair. Take it in and use it as relief. Use it as solace. Use it as a means of taming the flame, of lessening the pain.
Now close your eyes, and ignite the fire in your brain, let the memory out, and let the flame consume you. She's gone. She's dead. Everything you had with her is a memory. Everything you wanted to have with her is a dream faded into oblivion. You take a deap breath and you let that thought settle in again. Only to jerk up, and go into a fit of rage, a panic attack, a desire to fight life, a feeling of helpnessness. You remember the hospital bed. You remember the blood all around. You remember that little life you both created. You remember how that life resulted in her losing her life. You punch the ground and watch the blood pour down your cracked knuckles, but you feel no difference. You feel no more pain, cause you've reached your limit. You feel your body shaking, quivering, your soul fighting against it, begging, longing to be free so it can be complete again. You crawl over to the lake, and see your reflection in the water, but it's not there. Instead you see a monster.
You look down at the ground, let some tears dampen it and you think back to the hospital. Where your little kid lays, waiting for daddy to come to her. Slowly you raise your head and look into the water, look at your reflection again. You notice the blood on yiur knuckles, your notice the pain in your face, you notice her absence in your eyes, and you feel no remorse for the life you created. Shaking hands reach into the pocket and pull out your saving grace. You point it to your head and smile. The grass painted red, it's all over.
The little things gave you away. All those little dreams, all those little hopes, that little child at the hospital orphaned. Those lips on your face forever turned to a frown. She was the little things, she was the big things, she was everything, and without her you were nothing.