i'm distracted by the speckled, black ceiling tiles that droop closely to my head. every dot resembling excuses of why my lungs are still rising and falling and why my heart is still pumping.

i'm distracted by the changing colors of the crispy autumn leaves that flutter to dirty, dirty soil below. why would they want to fall, just to decompose like bloodless bones?

i'm distracted by the way you purse your lips and the way you trip over your feet when you walk near me. you waste so much time trying to impress me, but you are miserably unsuccessful.

i'm distracted by the way blistering bath water feels on my cheeks and on my ashy skin as i plug my nose and lower my head in the tub. drowning is my biggest fear, and fear excites me now-a-days.

i'm distracted by the way you say "i love you" and the way you tell me things will be okay. i'm not too sure if you're confident with that answer now, the way your voice shakes and hands quiver.