Please Don't Read This

I’ve been into the deep, dark woods at two in the morning

The streets downtown well after the sun has retreated into space

The cold, black water of a lake where the only light is from fire on the shore

I’ve been in the same room as shattered glass

The same room as people with their head in their hands

The same room as screaming and shouting and mental warfare

I’ve driven cars to the hospital with only half a hand on the wheel

Praying for death to travel slower than my Honda

Praying for each and every other life to stay out of my way

The adrenaline in my veins then

The obsidian strength onset by terror

Fails to help now

I can feel my blood flowing mostly inside my body

Sometimes it comes out of my lips

Through the dams opened by nervous teeth

I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’m just scared of losing you