I miss the feelings I got from being high, of belonging to the static in my mind. I miss closing my eyes and just thinking, waking up without a memory of anything besides a feeling I only ever got with a pill or two or ten, but now I'm beside myself feeling things I can't verbalize without beating the words to death, and I can't handle any more death, lost all my energy after creating a eulogy for everyone I tried to be. all the butterflies in my stomach are words I swallowed once upon a time, choked them down, choked on them, and I'm still trying to cough them out all this time later. I know breathing exercises, but I don't think those matter when I can't catch my breath. some things never change.