2:37am

The heavy hours slip through my fingers like my brittle split ends. It’s 2:37 am, the rain is persistent, constant. it strikes the glass above me. The split ends that I’ve cut are needling my skin through my clothes, the obnoxious youtube videos to fill my empty space, to convince me and what’s watching me that I’m not alone. I sink into my mattress, the weight in my chest pulls me to my floor, it thins beneath me, And I fall into myself.