Step

I don't know why I'm here,

listening to the gentle whirr of my laptop,
lying on the cold floor.


I don't know why I'm still here
still breathing,
but though I hate my life now,
in five minutes,
I'll have found something to live for

my
            thoughts
       are
                        floating
                                   away...

The world is still and silent,
I can't even hear the wind.

Soon,
Soon it will be morning,
and with the morning comes the dread of another disappointing day.

What next?

Where next?

Lids are fluttering,
head is drooping,
and
    my
heart
         is
in
     my
        throat.

Too many dotted red lines, and too few.
The lines are messy,
but without them how will I know where to step?