I feel empty when you go.
Even cooking is lonely when you are not here. What’s the point?
How can I be an entire human being?

I blast music in my headphones-
When they scream-
I can still hear the silence
(I can’t drown it).

I miss you.
Please stay with me.
Please do not leave.

My anxiety hurts.
My hands are shaking as I write this, it’s almost unreadable, and the page is wet
And the words disappear a little.

I’m still cooking.
What do you do yourself when you’re done?


It hurts.
I want to cry.
I think I will.

-Jesse Haydn