days are flying by so fast, jimin is lost. the world around him spin in their colors, mixing into one huge blur. everyday, he's fighting off a territorial headache, bit by bit starting to lose himself to the cycle of unrestrained thoughts that drown him at night.

it's midday, well past 1pm, and he's crying. 

he isn't sure why, but the tears well up and before he knows it, he's a sobbing mess. his chest starts to ache for something that isn't there. his lungs constrict and his nose is blocked. he breathes through his mouth in gasps, like a fish out of water. it cages him in, whatever it is, and for a moment it feels all too physical, like an invisible force forcing him to curl upon himself. he tries to break free but to no avail, letting him spiral deeper into something dangerous.

at the corner of his room, it sings. it sings of comfort, of embrace, of home. just one slice and everything can be alright again.

but he can't, he knows he can't just walk over and let himself be captive of his own thoughts. he's been clean for months, it would be such a shame to start cutting again. 

he longs for it, he knows, he longs for the bumps on his arms, the scars that tell him it's alright, that makes him relax when he feels like he's suffocating in an empty room. 

the anxiety builds in, it's all too much and he breaks down all over again. 

it wrings him dry until he's only staring at the ceiling feeling nothing. 

numb.