"The dead are watching, listening. I wonder what they know."

I'm shaking.

There's a feeling that comes over you when you watch the life fade out of someone's eyes.

I thank God for those milky confused eyes.... the ones that are already gone.

Now, every time I look in the mirror I see the same blue eyes of that little girl... and I see his dark brown eyes full of fear... I see that same dwindling light...

I'm screaming inside my head, "I'm not really here. I can't be. This can't really be happening."

And in response, I tell myself, " This is what you were made for."

It sounds stupid. I know.... but when you have to keep reminding yourself that you're not a monster, any other inner dialogue is welcomed... even coveted.

I have to believe that if it's not okay it's not over.

... And it certainly is not okay









Oh.... God.... Please.... let it be over soon.