I had thought things were going well.

2:40, two days in a row.

I can't tell what your triggers are, she says, Perhaps small spaces. Or loneliness.

Someone, please, I'm slipping and just need one thing.

I need someone to rework my cogs and wires to help reprogram this mind of mine.

I need arms to hold me, platonically, romantically, I have no preference.

Whether it will last or whether it will last only one second, I have no care.

Why? Why am I always the one left behind?

I can't keep holding people up from down here on the ground.