here i am again. trapped. between reality and a more appealing fantasy. phone rings. and rings. and i don't feel like speaking. my throats drying up. and it's hard to breathe. things are just things now. sarah talks about her poor little life. and i find myself openly despising her. envying her. wanting to scream at her. for her pettiness. for her whining annoyance. if she knew. how hard it can be. she'd run home. and hide. i have no time for people or things or feelings anymore. i find my heart growing so numb and cold. it's frightening. harming. damaging. we need to get the car in my name. we need to get a lawyer. we need to do this and that and that other thing. before. before. the man in black comes to take her away. every now and then. i watch her breath. i stand over her patiently. to see. if she's still here. she sleeps so sound now. only in the day. the night is not her friend. and an enemy of mine all the same. it is a horror to hear. someone slowly die. i listened to john for 6 hours. i'm listening to her day after day. moaning. groaning. crying. dying. her hair's coming out piece by piece. and i can't stop it. and i'm so fucking tired of this situation. of this sad, sad time. of writing depressing tales. that haven't changed. and feeling the same anger. growing. and taking over my once decent heart. now all gone. angry. and vicious. ready at any moment to strike. out. and hurt. so my hurt can be compared. "i know how you feel..." you don't know shit. and you won't. until. death comes knocking at your door. ready to take away the only thing you have. the only thing. the only family. you can depend on. when death comes to you. you'll know. you'll be able to see the light bright pain. the flashing rage. listening to her die. listening. it's killing what little feeling i have left. killing me. cough. coughing. moaning. whining. uncomfortable. horrible. fucking. pain. i can't stop it. i can't change it. i can't. fix it. dfn.