I had thought things were going well.
2:40, two days in a row.
I can't tell what your triggers are, she says, Perhaps small spaces. Or loneliness.
Someone, please, I'm slipping and just need one thing.
I need someone to rework my cogs and wires to help reprogram this mind of mine.
I need arms to hold me, platonically, romantically, I have no preference.
Whether it will last or whether it will last only one second, I have no care.
Why? Why am I always the one left behind?
I can't keep holding people up from down here on the ground.