I Let You Die

I let you die.

I'll not skirt the issue,

Tiptoe around circumstance and truth.

I let you die.

I watched and did nothing.

I did not care.

You were lifeless,

A limp form.

My passive lack of empathy,

Just watching,

Only taking time to blink and breathe.

It did not matter that you were bleeding.

(Although, it was quite a big puddle)

It did not matter that you had softly screamed my name in agony,

That you had cried out for my help,

Any help.

You were alone.

Yes, I was there physically,

But mentally?


I was an island, and you were an island.

Mine was carefree, conscience-free.

Yours was bloody, full of doom.

The River Styx,

Your good friend Hades,

A trip down, down to depths that did not cross the synapse of my mind.

Pain did not register.

Friendship? Caring?

They came as an afterthought,

After all hope was lost,

No chance for resuscitation.

The pangs of guilt that should accompany a lack of any movement?

They hid themselves.

They did not show.

They still do not.

Where ever they have gone,

They have gone with happiness.

Perhaps this is your last victory?

Take away my guilt, my joy.

You knew I would not stoop to help you,

You knew that I would not care.

I shall not skirt the issue.

I let you die.

I watched your death.

And you watched mine.