I need you now and you’re nowhere to be found.
Volatile pieces of me laying on untethered ground.
The concrete is hot against my back and I’m letting it wake me.
I can’t make it anymore without a little guidance.
You’re unintentionally making me feel like a nuisance when you’re ghosting me. When you’re ghosting me, there’s so much I feel lousy about.
Your lack of interest is making me fret.
I’m so sick and tired of feeling fucking rejected and defective.
If I was brave enough, stupid enough, I could just let go of this metaphorical railing and fall until I don’t feel anymore.
I’m sick of the questions and the concerned looks, the judgments and the “you shoulds.”
You’re not in my head.
I might just need to vent.
If you can’t take the greasy heat of this conversation, get bent.
Dawning Creations 
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