I can feel you.
I feel you pulsing through my shrinking veins; furiously, frantically.
You’re honestly my worst nightmare.
You drop in at the most inconvenient of times, so pretentiously.
I tell you to leave and you stay for hours on end and no click of my heels, or medication can shake you.
I can feel you.
Creeping just a little further up my limbs, making your way to my core; it’s warm there. It was, then you show up.
Your favorite place is nestled between by mouth, my quivering lips and my diaphragm of which I can’t even exercise a scream from because you have literally disabled every motor skill I have.
I’m drowning in you and the worst part is there’s no one else to blame but me.
I can feel you.
I can feel you pressing against my lacrimal glands, making my eyes swell.
I can feel you choking me; choking up. Choking on words, my own breath.
I can feel you sitting heavily and patiently on my chest and my throat and I can’t shake you, no, I am drowning and you love it because you stay.
In a way, we’re friends. You get me, and understand me so much you know when to push me just a little bit more and people ask, “Have you tried this?” And I wish they’d stop because like the most tumultuous relationship a human being has ever been in, I am in my own, and they don’t get that I can’t escape you even if I tried.
Hello, friend. I can feel you. Hopefully you’ll stay for awhile tonight.


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