Hell(o) A(gain)

It was quiet for a while. The thunder in my backbone the only sound. I was deaf to every word I'd once read from their lips. I was sound asleep. I was wide awake. I was beside the moment as it choked out the miscarriage of another friend.

We're never addicted to anything other than ourselves.

There are nightmares I can only describe as waking up. Examining the subtlest differences between letting myself live and waiting to die.

Consumed with the inflection of words I'll never speak. Dressed in the poetry of their skin. Fallen into wells too deep. Chasing the wishes others have discarded.

Falling.

Hoping.

That parachute won't open.