2:17 a.m.


You sent me three text messages last night:

"I’m drunk as fuck over the toilet man"
The nightmares beneath my skin
threaten to possess the shell of
my body.
I am nothing but
a diseased corpse.

"I miss you babe like seriously that shit hurts"
I swear something has its
hands tightened around
my throat.
Every time I breathe,
my lungs border on collapse.

"When can I see you when you coming back to me"
I used to see the stars whenever
I looked up at the
night sky,
but now all I see is
the darkness behind them.


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741