my grip is slipping,
and falling scares me.
my world is fading away.
h      
          e
                     l
                             p
       m
                 e

h
          e
                    l
                          ­     p
          m
                     e

writing was an escape but even now words slip off the paper like tear drops.

I write when I get insomnia
drawing in the dark is rather hard
I’ve written a lot the past weeks
and slept little
I’ve never been in his bed yet I long for it
I’m addicted without ever tasting it
In cold sweats awake at night
I need more
I wouldn’t need to write late at night if I had his skin to write all over
His lips to draw all over
and to kiss goodnight