The A/C unit emits the same monotone hum that almost puts me in a trance like state.
My desk chair hugs my body and I can feel the warmth trapped between my skin and the black leather.
The grey concrete floor is cold against my toes.
The burning sensation in my eyes is not from being tired.
The crystal glass has been long since emptied.
The ring is now sitting on my desk,
instead of my finger.
Obsessive and insecure are both edges to the same sword, the sword that will cut me and I will bleed sleep.