i don't live in a city i live in an apartment (that happens to be inside of a city) but it's not loud or bright or busy where i live i keep the doors closed i keep the blinds drawn
tonight, i'm drinking cold coffee wrapped in a thin blanket the air is on high as it always is and my hands are shaking as they always are my phone is warm i'm holding it close-- as an extended limb that reaches out from me to you when the touch is lost in the distance
silence gets stranger by the hour and i'm starting to feel the sadness now it's poured out from my skull and stained my skin it's leaking into my clothes-- it's becoming all that i know
i said i would never call this Hell home, because home was a place inside my mind where i felt safe but it seems to have caught fire in my sleep & burned to ashes with my dreams
how do i rebuild my life when all i have are the bits and pieces of a comfort that once sheltered me? *what is the foundation for change made of?