Here I lay, awake at night
coursing through my very last thoughts.
"How did it come to this?"
Closing my eyes and I think hard.

I've tossed and turned,
laying awake at night because of what I did.
"Will I ever feel the same?"
I'm sick to my stomach, and I need not wonder why.

I lay awake, as I have for a week.
My face is drained of color, and my breathing so painful.
"I feel numb, like I cant go on."
Tears once more strain down my face.

Here I lay, two years from then.
Awake and wondering "Have I been forgiven?"
I've been hated, I've been bullied... But now, I know I've been murdered.
And here I lay... dead to myself.