And then everybody would be safe.

When in the evenings
I dream of my happiness,
I dream about you.
I dream about you dying,
bleeding in a ditch,
a cold, slow death all alone.
And nobody cares,
and nobody looks for you;
it's terrifying,
and it's humiliating--
just ugly enough.
But that's pretty terrible,
wishing for that stuff,
and if I had that power,
I wouldn't cause that.
I'd choose something so much worse:
I'd choose to be free.
I'd wish you were never born,
that you never lived,
that you never existed,
that you changed nothing at all.