I dreamt last
night of a long
lost friend
which was strange
because I hadn't been
drinking
and this friend
talked me out
of suicide
even though I wasn't
considering it
and I almost reached
out to her
when I woke up
but that would
be worse than
suicide

I’m sorry.
It is me.
But it’s not.
It’s paranoia.
It’s fear.
But it’s mine.

I’m scared I’m doing too much.
Too little.
Trying too hard.
Not enough.
Not giving you space.
Giving too much.

So I’ll stop.
I’ll let you decide.
Maybe I won’t be paranoid.
I probably will.
But if you don’t want me around
I can disappear.