“i think i’m f…”

and the sunlight looks so friendly when you’re in bed. it peeks through the slits of the blinds and travels across your room. each minute you spend searching for your words, it inches towards your chest, your neck, your chin. it hovers on your lips, trying to coax the unspoken syllables from your mouth.

the body next to you shifts and patiently says nothing.

the words never materialize, and you eventually close your eyes as the chastising sunlight dances on your eyelids. 

and the body next to you sits up and leaves the room.