As she sat up in bed, a sob escaped her dark red, swollen lips. She looks down at her out-stretched legs and ran her fingers along her thighs as she looked and felt all of the scars and cuts painted across her skin. Tears continued to roll down her pale cheeks, dropping down onto her arms and legs. "Why?" She mumbles to herself. She reaches down under her bed and pulls out a black and silver box. When people see this box, they think there is shiny, beautiful jewelry inside that she would never show. But really, in that box held a lighter, three blades, and a little bag of pills. She lifted the lid off of the box and set it aside as she reached inside, grabbing a hold of a brand new blade and setting it on the bed in front of her. She put in her headphones, listening to Soldier by Before You Exit.

    She twirled the shiny silver piece of metal between her fingers, focusing her attention on the beat of the music in her ears. She held the blade to her leg and slowly cut her flesh. She flinched slightly as the pain shot throw her thigh, slowly becoming numb. A tear silently rolled down her cheek as she sliced again. Her hands were shaking a bit as blood seeped out of her new self-inflicted wounds. She grabbed a piece of tissue from her dresser and dabbed softly at the blood dripping down her leg.

    After wiping off the blade and throwing away the tissue, the broken girl placed the now used metal razor back into the box, pulling out the bag of Tylenol and opening it. "I should sleep before I **** myself up too bad." She whispers to herself as she grabs four pills and puts two into her mouth, swallowing them down with water that she had on her night stand. Repeating her actions with the next two pills.

   She puts on the song Happy Little Pill by Troy Sivan and falls back into her pillow, closing her eyes as her medium length blond hair spreads out across the soft, silk pillow case. The poor, thin girl covers her body with her black comforter and buries her face into the covers.

   As she waits for sleep to overtake her, she imagines being in a lovely field full of flowers and soft grass. She pictures herself laying on her back, looking up at the cloudless sky and at that last thought, she falls into a deep slumber.

Inspired by As I Walked Out One Evening by W.H. Auden

As I walked out one evening under the blanket of dark blue sky
Thinking about the week to come
Will the days be remembered, or rather wasted and forgotten?
Each tired child thinks the same thought.

Sunday nights slip into Monday mornings
Mondays slowly become Tuesdays;
Yet somehow the days become one
Each tired child unable to differentiate each day from the last

Wake up, brush teeth, brush hair, repeat.
Math, English, read, write, factor, and repeat.
Return home, work, eat, sleep and then repeat.
Each tired child thinks, “Is this really living?”

Stuck in a labyrinth of concrete
Routine forces every move
Taunted by the warm blanket left behind, only to leave a blanket of papers
Each tired child stares at the ticking clock.

Thoughts interrupted by bells at the same time
Routine consumes every thought
Each indistinguishable day
Where each child struggles to lift heavy eyelids.  

Same faces seen every day
Same places seen every day
Weeks blur into months, which in turn disappear in the minds
Each tired child fights every robotic move.

Closing doors and opening books
The teachers scream and roll their eyes
Where thoughts aren’t thoughts unless they are in Times New Roman
Each tired child strives to be heard.

As I walked out one evening under the blanket of dark blue sky
Thinking about the years to come
Routine is inescapable while spontaneity is a distant myth dreamt up in the minds
Of each tired adult who forgets what it’s like to be a child.

I didn't think something so simple
could move mountains like a glacier
could shape a day like a sculptor
could light a room like a bulb

I thought these things
before I saw you smile