SO IT'S 12:27AM AND YOU'RE HANGING OUT DRINKING BOXED WINE OUT OF A GATORADE BOTTLE IN A STARK WHITE ROOM WITH NO WINDOWS, WHEN YOU REALIZE THAT THE BURNING IN YOUR STOMACH IS NO LONGER THE WINE, BUT THE BUTTERFLIES BITING. IT'S COLD. YOU ARE SHIVERING SO MUCH YOU FEEL THE CARTILAGE AT THE BOTTOM OF YOUR STERNUM CRACK. THE GUY NEXT TO YOU NOTICES AND STARTS HEAD BUTTING YOUR SIDE IN HOPES TO KEEP YOU WARM. THE NEXT THING YOU KNOW YOU'VE DROWNED ALL THE MOTHER FUCKING BUTTERFLIES ENOUGH TO COMPLETELY ESCAPE REALITY AND YOU LAY THERE. STILL. STARING DOWN AT YOUR CROTCH ASKING YOURSELF WHY YOU FEEL AS IF YOU'VE BEEN COMPLETELY FUCKING GUTTED FROM THE INSIDE OUT.
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