Come a little bit closer.

I'm suffocating, slowly but certainly surely.
Glittering glass decorates the side of the road like pixie dust dances between the shadows of little girls who still have dreams.
I half-way imagine that the semi-truck next to me drifts into my lane and throws me against the underside of the overpass.
Wouldn't that be convenient.

I just feel so stuck and I have so many places to go but can't seem to leave.
But mostly I'm afraid that when I leave, I won't come back.
That wouldn't be so bad, but knowing that takes more courage than I can seem to find right now.

Something feels terribly wrong about all of this.
I linger too long between the warm covers.
Hiding maybe.
I have to wonder if I'm becoming someone I wasn't meant to be.
I just don't know how to stop it.

I'm drowning myself with new music, hoping that there is a meaning somewhere between notes and choruses.
Praying that someone might know something more than I do.
I'm searching for answers that don't exist and I suppose that would be the first problem.
But I can't let go, false security is still just that.

The other night he methodically removed the price stickers the discount store courteously affixed to the bottom of my new shoes. And it meant so much that it scared me. Somehow the one thing I can't have is the only thing that feels remotely right.