The Most Bitter Storm

Everything I've lost shows up in my dreams Like some sort of resurrection Lingering, hanging over me Or it ever exist at all? Did you exist at all. I try to wash your blood from my hands, But somehow, still, I remain stained I try to erase your tiny, broken body from my head But you've etched yourself into my memory. Lucidly, I pick at thoughts of who you..... Could have been, Or who you tried to be, Human. A human being. Dead and gone..... A secret it seems.