Two of the three lightbulbs in my ceiling fan have stopped working,

leaving the corner where my bed lies drowned in darkness

because I already know.

The warm ar rattling through the vent directly above me

periodically murmurs to a halt, surrounding me in silence.

Don't tell me it's going to be okay,

My favortie rain-scented candle has burned itself out.

replacing its once pleasing aroma with putrid smoke

because I already know.

The mug, once too hot to the touch, is drained

of the heat I had used to warm my hands.

Don't tell me it's going to be okay,

My parents think I lost my appetite, but

I just don't like the extra salt in my food

because I already know.

The words are now woven in my mind

but I can't bring myself to cut the thread.

Don't tell me it's going to be okay,

because I already know.