I'm such a fucking mess. I swear, there are limbs and blood everywhere. In a metaphorical sense. I feel like a war victim, the images just keep flashing through my head. I've lost the remote control. And the funny thing is, I don't really want anyone to save me. But maybe that's not funny. Maybe that's just metaphorical bullshit, too. And there's an empty space on the wall, where you used to be. And this cold is drowning me out in hot liquid beverages of soup and tea and I feel stuck on this page that you're turning, out of your life.