"What's the worse thing you've ever done?"
Your sharp blue eyes pierce into me.
"I killed someone once."
"No, no you didn't."
"But I did!"  I scream, "Stop saying that.
Can't you see the red stains on my palms
And the bloody footprints that trail behind me?
Who would've thought he had so much blood in him?
His epitaph reads 'don't blame yourself.'
But how can I not when the knife was in my hand?
I didn't mean to, but now I wonder if any murderer does.
Do you really believe the gun is loaded
Before there's a bullet in his brain?"
"It's not your fault," you say.
I look to the floor and a tear rolls down my face.