It's 2 A.M., I'm in your bed, eyes open wide watching headlights leave marks on the walls from the cars outside. I turn to you sleeping soundly, completely undisturbed by your heavy breathing syncopated with the sound of train tracks in the distance. It's 5 A.M., you've left your bed. My mind assumes the worst. In my head, you've ended it all. I swear to god I'm cursed. I think of you, I can't imagine you being gone for good 'cause at this point you've been the only thing that's really felt like home. Oh god, I think I might need you. It's gotten harder every day lying to yourself. You always said you'd be alright, you just need a little help, but no matter how far I'd reach you'd always move away. Maybe I'm the one to blame. I'm selfish and afraid.
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