I am cruel.
     No one said it,
         I carved it into my own skull.

I am not worthy.
     Every breath feels stolen,
         every little smile a lie.

I am tired.
    Of existing.
    Of failing before I even begin.

I am nothing.
    And nothing
        is easier
           to believe
              than hope.

I was walking,
  through a street I knew,
    but it bent the wrong way,
      and the shadows
        kept following
          faster
            and
              closer
 ­               breathing on my neck
                  I turned,
                    but the street
                      was gone,
                        and so
                          were you.

1.   A bruise on my palm from holding on too tightly
2.   The sound of glass humming when the train passes
3.   A laugh I didn’t mean to escape
4.   Your name, written backwards, because I didn’t want anyone to
       read it but me
5.   A moth dying quietly against the lamp
6.   The taste of rain and metal
7.   The question I still haven’t asked
8.   That strange feeling that the streetlight is watching me
9.   A heartbeat that doesn’t know where to belong tonight