Desert.

We are an army of soldiers walking the field, watching faces of the enemy become more clear. Open land, no place to hide, we are exposed without time to mitigate fears we have inside.

You lean on me and say, "I've been shot."

And just like that.
You were gone.

"You should have jumped in front," my conscious mind says, "taken the bullet; saved your friend."

I should have jumped, I wouldn't have died-- you're already gone if you're dead inside.