I don’t remember anymore.


Situated between reminiscences and the pinching pain of this cold air, my heart lays still in the serenity of the night.

I should’ve foreseen that I wouldn’t survive this ordeal.

You ask me where I go to when I’m gone with you before you bring the glass closer to my lips. Help me swallow down this drink.

1, 2… stop me. 3, 4… you don’t. IMG_9099

It only takes a second for your skin to touch mine.

The guilt is taking over.

The agonizing shame is building up and sinking in.

Don’t touch me.

Clenched on your coat of umber, I muster equivocal words to chant insensibly.

In a motionless state, my body is screaming “free me from this feeling,” but

I only open up when I’m intoxicated — unaware of the feelings I spoke through to you.

“Breathe.”  I can hear you.

“Breathe.”  I’m not here.

It’s pitch black.

“Breathe.”  I…

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