February

I wake up in a cold sweat It’s raining again, the mist of February rain reflects my foggy conscience. The ache in my shoulder tells me I’ve slept wrong again, I wake up in makeup from last night, Like proof I was someone else for a while. I force myself to get out of bed, the cold shower stings my skin, as did the blade the night before. There’s a pit in my stomach. It claws at me, quiet but constant. I can’t decipher if it’s hunger or loneliness. the rain is persistent, February has no intention of letting me go, the loop continues.