Wished It Was Me

I watched her die.
I watched her take her last breath.
I watched her as
She slowly faded into death.
The tiles were made red
By her own flowing blood.
It spilled from her cuts
And poured out like a flood.
Her heart had stopped beating,
Stopped pumping out life.
This end is the same
For each sad sinner's strife.
The knife laid by her side
And grinned silver and sleek.
The bloody tip made a mockery
Of how much she was weak.
On her arms were deep gashes
That seemed almost to weep.
They spilled out all the secrets
She could no longer keep.
But her eyes shed no tears.
She'd already wept out her pain
When she saw in her life
No happiness to gain.
She wanted to do this.
She longed for the end.
She had long surpassed
How far she could bend.
So she took up that knife
That smiled with sinister glee.
Once she started this journey
There was nowhere to flee.
But the pain of her flesh
Couldn't match the pain in her heart.
She collapsed to the ground
And let her life fall apart.
And for once she was happy.
For once she could see.
But how blind still she was
That I wished it had been me.