the days i find you

it wasn’t until the night turned sour that i saw your scars as wildfires. each scar more metaphorical than the last. double doors leading through hospital hallways. the distortion on the television mirrored the inside of your mind. most nights you prayed for static. some days i see you leave. your shoelaces tied around your throat. where are you going? i ask your mind. it responds with tire screeches. four a.m. found you balled up on the floor with your arms wrapped around your knees. you never wanted to be seen again. i told you that i see you. i always see you. you sighed, lifted yourself off of the floor and asked, would you like anything to drink?

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