I peered into the cold blue eyes that had an apparent absence of love.

They shimmered beneath the sun begging for all the love possible, but none reciprocated.

It was then I understood what true apathy was.

The will to want but not give, for there was nothing to discard.

I felt pity arise in my soul and I clutched my chest for some emotion, something that would prove my love for him.

My arms wrap around his black striped shirt, the shirt I had for so many years ripped and torn in a process of reaching his body.

The shirt had protected him only once during the one-sided sexual intercourse.

The times he had cried liquid crystals from his cerulean orbs that had been frozen to ice always stayed invisible.

I move my hand through his pitch black hair with ease.

His original hair was a cinnamon red but that changed when the rape began.

His hair was now as black as the bruises that covered his fragile body.

His heart was cold rarely was there a pulse for some where along the road,

I must've killed my best friend.