Rewind

I feel like a murderer:
There is blood on my hands
But when has there not been?
(no one understands)

I am in complete shock:
I've never thought myself capable
To end a life, stop the clock.
(there's still blood on my hands.)

I stare at my weapon of choice:
Neither sword nor pen,
Silence nor voice.
(it's all over; take a bow)

Rage begins to boil in my veins.
I can go back, I tell myself -
I carry the reigns.
(but how?)

I bite my lip and consider my options:
The only choices lead
To death or adoption.
(but I'm the one with the gun...)

Still, I force myself to move my hand;
I can do this, can't I?
Redo what I've planned?
(but it's over, it's done.)

I shake and force myself to rethink
Everything I've done;
Can I erase crimson ink?
(I could do it - I could cheat)

Decision made, I rewind my actions.
With a split-second tap,
I've erased all transactions.
(I force myself to touch "delete")

And suddenly it's gone - all of it.
He's alive, I haven't killed him.
And so I recommit.
(where to go from here?)

I could've done it: let him die,
But he was my favourite,
And no writer deserves to cry.
(am I not the puppeteer?)

"You're lucky, you know,"
I say out loud.
"I just couldn't let go."
(he's safe in my hands)