Your room is blue. Blue walls, blue sheets, blue. When I lay in your bed in the early morning light I feel like I’m in the ocean, sinking, sinking, sinking. I’m sinking deeper and deeper into your life and you are off living it. I feel detached, separate. I close my eyes, wishing I could just sleep this feeling away: the aching in my feet and the hollow pit of anxiety in my breast.
Sinking, sinking, sinking.