Hold my hand like that time in Eugene.
Please save me from this pill-routine, this empty dreaming time.
I am a shard of glass fallen from a high window and now I can only lie here until you save me, pick me up.
I'm a newspaper left in rain-showers, my sense of self lies in inky pools on the sidewalk.
I am lost in that same endless Monday when you left, took your suitcase and everything inside of me.
Could I have my heart back please?