tonight all the versions of myself lay together on my twin size bed. one is vomiting over the metal railing, a snap of a girlfriend kissing someone else playing on repeat in their palm. one listens to our dad’s hand-curated phoebe bridgers playlist. one can’t stop eating, and one can’t eat at all, and one is somewhere in-between. one calls a friend about social studies. one calls a friend about ap history. one calls a friend and asks if they should switch their major to creative writing and five minutes later ends the call. one texts their brother. one hates their brother. one decides they don’t really mind their brother all that much. one hates their brother and curses him to hell. one is shopping on etsy for birthday gifts for their brother. one dreams about kissing a girl. one prays through tears to fix their mind. one is texting their ex, and one is about to bash that one’s head in for texting their ex, and one is saying, “what ex?” and one is yelling, “someone could actually love us!!!!!!!,” and one is saying no, and i’m not saying no, but i’m not saying yes. one is on prozac. one on zoloft. one on effexor. one is unmedicated, and we’re all scared of that one. tonight the young talk to the older sister they never had, and the old hug someone for the first time in weeks. tonight the cat steps on all our faces because the cat does not give a shit. tonight we do not sleep. tonight some of us hope and some of us fear and some of us know this the end.

– Gretchen Troxell