I peal the skin off of my lips.
It won't stop until there's only flesh.
Blood that drips into my mouth reminds me I'm still alive.
The thought of being alive keeps me up all night.
I lock my door and huddle to the corner of my bed and put my back to the wall. A million ways to die and I'm still alive? My paranoia is higher than the sky. The cat knocked over a plate.
In my room I was ready with pepper spray. I think of my escape and at that moment I'm ready to fight and possibly fail. One hundred thousand different ways to handle the "killer" but possibly go to jail.
I got scared so I had the cat keep me company while I was thinking about my fate.