Certain days, when the clock has barely turned 2, I can feel a lump of fear slowly growing out from deep within the cavities between my ribcage. This lump intensifies; it devours my mind and takes over my thoughts. But I am still here. I'm here and thinking, how can I get through tonight?

But I've made it through yesterday.

I want to think I knew how to feel on nights like these. But for the past few weeks I have ran out of ideas.

Certain days are better. Certain days I preoccupy myself and certain days I don't even have to think. But certain nights... alas, certain nights.

Certain nights are left to wander the empty streets I have made up in my mind. I've created a whole world but I have forgotten about the people. Now I only have myself.

You, like all the others before you, have melted into the walls and pavement. I am alone but you are everywhere. I am terrified but I am safe.

There are no more instances where I will see you again. We have reached the end of the road. You have gone home but all I want to do is plunge.