I tried to make myself feel what you were feeling. I tried cutting myself, and insulting myself endlessly, I tried to hurt the way you do. I'm sorry, I failed. I retraced your steps and felt the adrenaline in my lungs, but found no comfort in it. So, I failed you. I have no empathy for you or the scars on your body. I have never cried for hours on end, but smiled in the presence of people I will probably never see again. I have never felt so broken as to wish for death. I have never yearned for a nightmare. My sanctuary is that of a God's, not of the act which will get me there. I cannot comfort you, I cannot be your guardian angel, I cannot save you, my beautiful disaster.