overreacting over radio silence in my bedroom while feeling like i have to throw up because of an impending nervous breakdown; you are on vacation with your friend in atlantic city.

tonight, i can relate to my mother.

i am chain smoking paranoid thoughts, and cope by snorting heroin.
involving you.
involving car accidents, abductions, sexual assault, natural disasters, and shark attacks. 
even though you're probably in the hotel, in a bed, sleeping.

tonight, i am having a spiritual awakening.
in this moment.
for the first time.
i am genuinely concerned about someone after six hours of phone silence.
so i stay up.
watching the phone.
waiting for your name to come across the navy blue screen in white letters.

tonight, i want to talk to you.
because i've ruined my life, hate myself, and want to talk to you about it.
my hiding places are filled beyond max capacity.
in a couple of days, there's no place to go.
like a person dropping through the air without a parachute during the fall.
i know what they are thinking:
panic
anger.
remorse.
his/her loved ones.
hysteria.
past mistakes.
future regrets.
sadness.
"FUCK!"
death.

it's pure fucking horror that no one can understand because there are no survivors.
it's worse than the moment of impact due to the combination of time, loneliness, and watching the ground getting closer, and closer.

tonight, i am falling.
tonight, you are ___ in atlantic city.
tonight i am concerned about the both of us.