I need reassurance.
Tell me he won't kill himself.
Please.
Please tell me he won't be driven to the point of self mutilation,
A stupid habit that I've only reformed because of him!
Yes, you. Death awaits kings of torn atmospheres, and mine has been bombed! Destroyed by you, death is waiting, wanting you!
She is waiting!
She is I.
I am waiting!
I am a forensic pathologist.
My corpse.
Is you.
You lie on the metal table.
I make the first incision, not wanting to know what happened.
The autopsy report: "Suicide."
This is my fault.
"Tell me he will not be driven to suicide! Tell me that his problems will never become skin deep! Tell me that self mutilation will never be reformed! Tell me that I didn't do this! Tell me that they! They did not do this to him!"
I take you into the morgue.
Another "John Doe."
I kiss you one last time,
And you are laid to rest.
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Purgatory
"This is the place where death rejoices, in teaching the living..." - Donald "Ducky" Mallard.
"We can't die with dignity, we have to live with it." - Greg House, M.D.
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"...like violence...you had me, forever. and after."