Die young and save yourself

Is that what you were thinking? No note, no explanation. Did you think that no one would understand? You left a wound, an ugly one at that, if it would ever heal, the scar would revel burn victims, but it is reopened daily. The mere mention of a name that even beckons at the silhouette of yours sends blood to the tile, tears to the sleeve, flesh to the knife. I am what's left.