Think of me when you wake up at night;
when you toss and you turn,
when you try to fall asleep.

Think of me when you have trouble focusing because your eyes are so heavy.
Think of me across town, or a mile away.

Think of what you’ve taken from me,
my lighter,
my razors,
my escape,
think of how this all builds up and I can’t take it.

Think of how I long for the days of summer,
when we were inseparable.

When you used to come hold me,
turning off the noise of anxiety,
the abuse of depression,
till I was so calm,
so sleepy,
that I could barely get up to lock the door behind you.

Think of me at two a.m. when I whisper thank you once I’ve calmed down.
Think of me at two a.m. when I know you’re thinking of her.