When my fingers...

When my fingers,
type the letters of your name I look up and see what's on the screen. I don't know why, I didn't give you a thought in the last few months.
At least, that's what I thought, it turned out that I'm a lot more attracted, fascinated by you than I want to admit.
How did they do it?
How did they kill you and make me believe it was my fault?
Was it my fault? I don't know. Everything is gettin' black. I see nothing. I only see your name. Time after time it repeats, the voice in my head says it was my fault. Of course it was, when they pushed you in front of the train, it was because you asked them to. To get rid of me. You were ripped apart and I even remember the little piece of you that flew by a few meters from where I was standing.
You looked me in the eyes and I saw nothing.
No pain, no joy, no regrets, no love.
Nothing. What have we done? At this point you realise how valuable life is. How quickly it can be over.
When the police came to search your whole body together, I couldn't do anything. I couldn't sleep, talk or walk.
The only thing is did was vomit. Your heart was even more ripped apart than when I broke it.
Is this all my fault? Was that the reason?
Of course. Of course it was my fault