Spent three hours staring at the ceiling. Just me, the pill bottle on the nightstand, and the ghost of a thousand different hands on my skin. You want to know what it feels like to have your insides carved out and replaced with lead? To be so used that your own cunt feels like it belongs to a stranger?

Then he came home. Didn't ask. Just put his warm palm on my cold stomach. And for a second, the static stopped. He doesn't fuck the ghosts away. He just reminds me whose body this is now. His. And the only weight I have to carry is him on top of me.