.:bellevue chronicles:.

that night, you didn't want to see me. you hadn't been wanting to for some time
and i felt like every day that passed, you drifted further and further away.
there i was in Brooklyn. hot summer night. sticky skin, heart broken.
with the curse of your empty drawers, a continuous reminder that you would never come back.
tried to call you in the middle of the night. i knew you were out, i knew you were happy
i was not. i wasn't well, juggling on the thin line of insanity.
the usual happened, u didn't answer. not for some time
shaking, shivering, hallucinating, dizzy, confused. that was me
that night i lost all.
i was having a panic attack, i suffer of those, and decided
the hospital was a better place to die, at least someone would notice.
you called back, you were out, you were having fun.
i was dying
shortly after you were there, confused and something else, only you know..
i was dying
they police took me to the doctor, and wouldn't let me go, after all it was a mental institution. i turned around while they walked me to a secluded area.
you were crying.
i was dying
at some point i felt i would never leave the joint, like a character in a garcia marquez short story.
here i am, writing it in my leaving room
still dying
and you? i wish you the best.