Every time I'm really really messed up. You're drunk. You're so far gone and I'm so far away and yet so close to relapsing. My chest hurts and I'm afraid to fall asleep, the fear of my parrents finding out I'm gay and kicking me out. The fear that I have no where to go. And you're drunk. Thinking I'm okay, when in this moment my hands shake, trying to type out my distress. A cry for help if you will. I was crying really bad you said you would be there and you weren't