i am alone
in the dark.
listening to the clock tick
like a time bomb.
tomorrow i will be
tangled in hospital sheets,
sickened and afraid.
i pushed back the thought
of the pills
buried in my stomach,
slowly dissolving
and killing me.
yet four days later,
my skin is growing paler,
and i am feeling
sicker
and weaker.
and i cant help
but to cry
because i still crave
to die
and everything seems okay
to the outside world
if i'm drowned in
anxiety medication
and antidepressants
and left to rot away.
