i wrote this?

i really am quite ridiculous.
doing my washing at 4 AM
if i could.
scrubbing down the tiles,
and rinsing the sink.

i want to throw up,
but i'm stopped by the memory of what it felt like
the last time.

you remember...

right?
welling up inside of you,
all the darkness,
to the brim of your lips.

tucked in tightly,
strapped to your bed.
arms at your side.

and still it wells up.

growing from inside you.