Graphic by Alex Ivashenko
more midnights than i would care to admit i’ll jump into my phone: the bottomless pit no calls, no texts, not a single dm do i even fucking matter to them? embracing, bracing for Dark and his charms a soliloquy in solitude’s arms sinking in the minute, sunk by the hour imprisoned, guarded by his watch tower. i can’t do this alone but i don’t have a friend— just a pissed disposition and sadness to spend— i’ll drink to get drunk, throw up, drink again i’m still here waiting and waiting for when. a follow request, of course I accepted. i’m fucking alone in a world so connected.