It’s all okay
once the nausea sets in
and you can’t catch your breath
without choking.
The sounds in here
just became angry
and hollow
and distant
and now they’re gone
and it’s just me again.
Oh.
Isn’t it great
how the ceiling is the same
no matter how long I stare
and
the other side of the bed is still empty
no matter how long I wait.
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