She, she didn’t understand. 

She, she felt alone. 

                                                    “why am i the one to suffer? 

                                                     to live and breathe through the gruesome dark tunnels, just                          to be able to see me?

                                                    why? but why? i can’t do this”.

“I don’t understand”.

“I won’t understand”. 

“I refuse to understand”.

“I don’t see you. I don’t believe you. You don’t exist”. 

She still doesnt understand, but she’s coming to her senses.

She’s meeting someone, again.

“I HATE YOU!”

“I CAN’T F*CKING STAND YOU!!”

“I CAN’T SEE YOU FROM THE POINT YOU WANT! WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

                                          “i don’t know what i want. why does nothing work out?

                                           why am i sitting through endless bouts of trauma and

                                           pain just to ease the sufferings of those around i?

She can’t ask for forgiveness, because she doesnt deserve it. 

She can’t ask for anything, because she doesnt submit.

She can’t admit. 

All the arguments. All of the desolate isolation.

                                                “please, leave me alone”.

                                                “please, let me be by my own”.

                                                “please, don’t keep doing this to me.”

All that is said is wasted and thrown. 

                                                “it doesn’t matter, stupid girl”. i remember.

She is wasted.

She drinks, thinking it is the only way to cure her pain.

She ponders, wanting to off her life

She thinks that the world would be a better place without her. 

                                              “i’m only asking.. have you ever felt like you wanted to die?

                                               to leave the earth?

                                               to make it so that you don’t want to matter to the people you used to care most for anymore? i think i want to die”.

She drifts, far into space, in a bubble of her own thoughts

She takes the tylenol from the cabinet. 

clack.

          click.

                   click. 

                            clack.

                   clunk

          clack

click

s w a ll o w (18). 

She wakes up in the hospital.

She didn’t succeed. 

                                             “i think that maybe life is worth living”.

                                             “if i didn’t succeed this time, will i next time?” 

“I don’t know you anymore”.

“I want you to come back to me when you’re yourself again”.

“okay”.