I need to get some sleep; I've been up for days. I locked myself up tight, just to close my eyes, and drift away but instead I just toss and turn thinking about every conversation I've burned into my head. And I've been drinking, and now I'm pacing again. My fingers are in knots but I can't seem to shake them, this weakness in my stomach begs me to take more medication, but I'd rather just fight it off. This flu, this illness, these feelings, I'll fight them off. I'll ignore them until they get worse. But then my fingers break. bones shredding through the skin, They couldn't take the pressure my one track mind had put on them. And I don't feel a thing, I swear I don't feel them bleeding. I just feel my head pulsing, my lungs compress as I exhale my remaining breathe. My pupils dilate as the sun sets but I can't remember day fading into night. I have lost control, just how many times did this car roll? Or how I got pulled, how I got here as familiar faces lean down on me and fade to grey as the shadows from the corner of my eyes creep all the way over and they blind me now I'm cold. How long have I been here, how old have I grown? And I swear I can hear the sirens. I swear I hear them calling out my name, but I can't make my lips move. I can't feel a thing, I'm too young to die.