I shutter awake drifting in and out of fever dreams, the room in pitch black but I can tell that He is still awake, I can feel him thinking.His minds all about broken bones and bad news, his mind is racing his heart rate to, he drags in shallow breaths. To his disadvantage, he has no offense and his best defense is a fuck you to all of them who insist that he will never win. He tries to clear his head and get some sleep, but he can shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach that is sickly sweet, he’s addicted to the way their voices sound when they tell him he doesn’t have a chance. The a.m.'s have our eyes stitched open and I wonder if he can feel me breath, the air is warm and he is secure in his Insecurities, he is almost sure that he can't pull it off and smiles while falling asleep he might be wrong, but they Can’t always win.
-meagan.
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