Blindly into the black
Sensations muted
this patient
impatient, in-patient
writhes with silence
infested with love
yet tempted by the void.
Seeing all.
Feeling none.
Numb.
A state of delusion beckons
Serotonin downers
melancholy malaise.
Survival is key.

Dreams of crashes, death, mangled limbs and twisted metal
Dreams of throwing myself into the whole mess
Because maybe if I save someone else, it'll be close to saving myself.

I’m too tired to cry. Too dizzy to move. And every little bit of my energy is being left behind on this cruise. I give myself up on dishes and dishes and they pick and they pick, and they order more and I give it to them. I give up on presentation and just slap myself onto plates and into bowls and hand them over. Take me, take me, TAKE ME. And they take their little itty bitty forks and they poke and **** and chew the tiniest pieces before handing the plate back and ordering more. Those gluttonous pigs with their pinkies up and their napkins folded into their shirts. Pretty soon they will have to settle for what’s on their plates. Or starve. There’s only so much you can fit on a porcelain dish, and only so much of me left.

she watches you fall apart on the edge of the water
she listens to your screams through the phone
she changes the music in the car to laughter
and she drives and brings you back home