071520041342 -

suddenly, nothing is important but my own sense of touch; running my fingers along the fabric of my couch, i don't know what to do next. i literally feel like i'm going to throw up; an unwelcome ball lodged deep in my throat, the cycle has yet to break.

flashbacks, dear god the flashbacks, and as he said to me one year ago: "life is a skipping record, and i got no sleep last night."