placing bets, pt. 2

how can i even begin to explain what you do to me. should i describe where i am and what i look like? i'm sitting barefoot in the closet with the lights off, typing thoughts with cold fingers and feeling breathlessly alone. my shoulders are hunched, my thin ribs and crooked spine promenade themselves across my back like my skeleton wants to break free. I have called the ones i love most, the ones i care about the most, and i'm not sure what part of me is grateful, but that part of me is very, very grateful.

You may not understand that i am trapped in a thin cage,

that as i describe where i am and how i look, the tempo of my shaking body increases ever so slightly,

you may not understand that

but i never thought you would

and i'm glad you don't

part of me is glad you don't

just come and take me away. i've decided what i want. some people might be hurt, and i might feel the scratches of karma on my soul, but i have done what i needed to do. i have rolled my dice into a dark corner

and i have no choice, i must go pick them up