It is in the small hours like these
that I feel like destroying myself. You
all think you want to die, one of you calling out
to me in your pain, the third one of you in
few weeks. I beg and I plead and I shout and
when you cannot see me, after (or maybe
in the middle of) guiding you through this crisis, I
will break down and sob in terror and anger
at my helplessness. The glue I use to hold
you together is harvested directly from my own
disgustingly weak being. As I am trying to solidify
your world, I myself am dissolving. Please
don't die, none of you, your loss and my failure
would create a monster to devour and utterly
destroy what is left of me.