I signed the papers with ink like blood and soul. Binding. I wish I could remember the names and the order in which the meds were removed until all that was left was the morphine drip on the steady increase. I cannot recall whether or not your kidneys stopped before your heart. (I believe your heart went last. You held on so long, grasping.)

I told you, speaking in hushed tones..when you finally had no choice...that you had to go. You could not speak, your throat swallowing painfully with the ulcers then finally not at all. But your eyes wept slow tears down a stubbled cheek. Oh my god, but your eyes pled desperately, bore through me with the words you could not form.

No more suffering, no more pain. But I still see clearly that I killed you. It's your body rotting in the earth. And I have no right to want...anything so much as I do...to feel...to be...beautiful.