DEAR SAMMY,

Three a.m. is a strange time. Everything is so still. Except for the frogs. They won’t shut tf up. I promised myself I’d only take one of your pills to stop the pain, and I broke it. I’m sorry. All my life I wanted to be like you. I mean, obviously a much cooler, prettier version of you. Ha! You know what I mean.

I wanted to find the light you gave off. Bottle it. Save it for a rainy day.

Wow, it’s reeeeally hard to write in the dark. The words keep dripping off the paper. What I’m trying to say is, I do still want to be like you in all ways—except for this one.

I’m sorry.

The countdown has begun. Six more days until the end of an era. A new future: without you.

Remember that one time when you promised me nothing would ever change? Breathing is underrated.

Under Rated.

Under debated.

A shadow keeps moving up the wall, and sometimes I think it’s you. The way it creeps all stealth-like. It’s got a purpose. You had one too. I just can’t seem to remember what it was. . . . Fuck, I think Mom’s coming.

Everything’s so blurry.

You know what’s heavier than you’d expect? A pen. It holds the weight of the world in a tube of ink, just waiting to explode and spill nonsense across every surface. Gonna go, I can’t keep my eyes open.

I’m sorry