At night while you're lying in your bed, angry at the sleep your body is depriving itself of, I hope you think of me and I hope your blood boils.
When your brain is dancing, tangled and knotted with your demons from all realms of your life; past, present, future, and you feel your hands clench into wrecking ball like fists, I hope you feel my phantom hands close lightly around them reminding them the pain isn't worth it. And then I hope you swing anyway.
When you grip a hand full of your hair, I hope you feel my fingers brush the tendrils from your face, and then I hope you pull.
When you lean against the first solid object in your path, on both arms, just looking for something to hold you up, I hope you feel my arms snake around you and my breath on your neck reminding you to breathe, just breathe with me, like this, slow it down, match me. Then I hope you forget how to breathe all together and your legs give out and you fall, weak, to the ground.
While you're down there shaking with anger and sadness and heaving out tears you dare let no one see, I hope you miss my calmness.
And more than anything, I hope as every second plays out you know that all it would take is one call, and I'd be there to ease you out of the nightmare I know you're trapped in.
And then, I hope you choke to death on the thought of letting someone like that go.
And I hope for your sake it was worth it.