I'll unscrew all of my bones from each other so it hurts less the next time you start shoving me around like I don't matter.

Sleep starts with my toes, slowly consuming and spreading through the rest of my body. It takes its time to isolate every inch thoroughly. Every joint under my skin separates and pulls away from me as fatigue spreads from my ankles to my knees. My wrists and ears feel captured and bound by the darkness and peace of the night. I melt into the sheets beneath me.
After only a short time, just my brain is left floating above my pillow. The rest of my body has dissolved into the wind. I look around my room, and the universe has shifted just for me.

Your opinion shouldn't be more important than my reality.

This clock, hanging above me and ticking away, just reminds me how much time I wasted putting chains around my emotions and sealing a lock on them. I wasted all of those seconds, that finitely tick by, throwing away the **** key to that lock so that nobody, including me, could find it now.

I continuously cry over a life that I almost missed, and every time I do, I am glad I held on for who I am and what I have done today.
Please don't die.

Pick my body up off the floor like chopsticks lifting pasta and sit me in a chair. Glue the limbs that fell off back on (maybe accidentally put some pieces back in the wrong place) so I can walk again without toppling over like a stack of books balancing on a pea. I'm talking to myself too much.