I held onto his words like vines on a brick building unable to stand alone,
unable to reach higher without dependence on something greater than me.
I was holding on with thin strands of yarn around my wrists and around my neck.
I fell so dependent on everything except myself to keep me going because I fell too weak to stand.
I gasped for air.
I hit the floor.
The world became too heavy and I fell into a dream.

I awoke from a dream, not refreshed, alone, lonely, and broken.
I awoke to find myself running, sprinting to find something- to find anything that would take away the pain, that would end everything right there.
But in that moment nothing was strong enough.
I thought everything was weak.

But I was the weak one, still.
The world wanted me alive and I tried to weaken its will.
I fell back into a drunken dream over and over.
And every night I wished myself away.
Away away away, back into that heavy dream.
That was where I belonged- in a heavy dream that you only awoke from weaker than when you fell into it.