I pick up the knife, stare at the blade.
The blade that has left me so many memories, but with each came some pain.
I pull the knife across my wrist, saying hello to an old friend.
But as I stare at the blood, looking for an answer,
All I can see is the face, the face of the person that I broke my promise to.
A promise that I wanted to keep, a promise that meant everything to me.
But everything wasn't enough.
All that I can think of to say to the face is,