Cell Phone

I send a text message, when asked how I am doing

"somewhere between bed bugs and depression" 
I send another before waiting for a response 
"what's eating mollie underwood"

I send her a message sometime during the middle of the night

that I am thinking about sandwiches, then that I am thinking about jessica chastain 

then send another long text in the morning that I'm "thinking about hexes and crying into my eggs"

I don't expect a response and somehow it works

I'm trying to sleep

tossing and turning, throwing around pillows and pills

I turn on that song

it plays loud on my phone

I scroll through pictures of you

in the street, in that outfit 

smiling, smirking, glaring

it's like pornography 

how sad can I make myself

can I break my own heart

I tried

I didn't

I learned in psychology when I was eighteen, 
or nineteen that people who suffer from depression don't normally kill themselves at their worst

but always as they start to feel better

their head is finally above water

and they can see things clearly

that thought hasn't left my mind since

I believed I would want to suffer for your happiness

watching it would be enough for me

but not like this