Waking at 12 in the morning, aching from a heart cavity.
Logging on to social platforms just to see that pulsing green button that does me more yellows than reds.
Decrypting the folder that I’ve once locked with strings of far-fetched passwords, cursing myself everytime I had it wrong.
Biting my tongue for every ultimatum, every finality that I’ve said. (Recurrence is a cruel bitch, I should have known better).
Letting everyone know how desperate I am- heaving years worth of sighs without any respite of exaggeration.
Realizing that aside from swallowing futility as a bitter medicine, I’ve used a wrong preposition somewhere…