are you listening

her midnight call
stirs you.
keeps you awake for hours.
her voice shrill
and drunk,
drugged.
her wrist awaiting another cut.
her skinny limbs
crossed
and bare,
white bones against
white bones.
a match could set
her on fire.
she talks about love,
betrayal,
about the window across
the room,
open and holding a breeze.
how inviting
flight is.
how quickly it would be
to hit bottom,
real bottom this time.
don't hang up,
are you there, are you
listening.