I sat there anxiously prepared to rip my skin off
- to bare my life to a stranger,
doodling on the paper in front of me,
a paper with all the information to remember,
I could feel the sweat in the armpits accumulating,
and I tried in vain to steady my breathing,
hand gripping hard around my phone not to shake.
The happy on hold music played relentlessly
- on repeat, every note stabbing me
leaving me gasping for air to its rhythm,
This was my final life line which I had fought against
- for months, years, holding it off in a naive hope
that life at some point needs to get better,
as everyone said it would.