The endless trickle down my neck reminds me of you

The memories like warm honey that dry into a sticky mess on my back, pulling me down to earth whenever the next fall is taken

I can't hold in the rasping breaths that plague me, hyperventilation crushing the base of my skull, a fight for my conscience, my concious

I can't see the end of this now as I know it is near, I can hear it. I can taste the bitter synchrony of our thoughts, and I give my final look

One last trickle, my darkest friend.