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Silhouettes on the ceiling. I’ve been much better but at least I’m healing. You know I haven’t slept since you left but for me that’s progress. I’ve been fraying at the fabric. Strung out and biting on the back of my bottom lip. I’ll tell you everything is copacetic. I built my guard up to the clouds. Because of you, I’ve been reduced from high-rise windows to stepping stones. There’s gotta be something more for me. More than framework and furniture. Free fall into foreign waters. You tore me down. How many times must we walk this line? You can look but you can’t touch. How many times can I say I’m fine? I’m fine.