I sent it
At three AM
On one of those nights
Where silence gets violent
And I'm alone in my head.

I told you about the
Tiny pink pills
And how
If I took eight
I would sleep forever.
I gushed that
They were hidden
Under the toothpaste slathered
Countertop
In my bathroom.

I told you I loved you
But that
You weren't enough to stop me anymore.

I did actually consider it.
It was one of those nights.
But at some point,
As I laid on top of my comforter
And shivered under the fan,
I realized that
You weren't going to wake up
And convince me out of it.

I also thought
About how my mom was
A light sleeper.
How the floorboards would sound like
Orchestras
And the cabinet
Would be the symbals
To her.

I fell asleep
Numb,
But naturally numb,
And woke up wondering
What you would say.

You didn't say anything.

When you tell me
You don't want help
I get scared

I don't know how much longer
You have
Before it's too late

I want so desperately
For you to get the help
You truly need

Because the less you say you need help
The more you really need it

Trust me
I know
And I will do what it takes to keep you safe

Even if that means losing you as a friend

Because not being your friend to keep you alive
Is better than wishing I could have helped
From beside your grave

I've learned that happiness
cannot be found in the form of a little
purple capsule.
I've learned that Pisa will have to wait until next time.
I've learned that the third mushroom
held in my sweaty palm was not as
big a deal compared to the other two opening my mind.
I've learned that a part of me
died that night where we ****** in a
room with no furniture.
I've learned that life is work and that
the molotov cocktail of Dubrah and eay mac
that came spewing from me left an orange tang
upon the floor.
I've learned that pain is better than numbness
and that jabbing a sewing needle repeatedly in my arm
was an educated decision.
Most importantly I've learned that together we are better than alone.

"I just don't care anymore"
The words ring in my head
Like a scratched tape

She doesn't care
That she's hurting the ones she loves
Every time she touches the metal to her skin

I think I get through to her
But the next day,
All progress is lost

I don't know what hasn't been said
What details she's strategically left out
But I won't give up

I refuse to let her become like me
Pink scars across her skin
With no way to be completely put back together

I can't let her keep spiraling down
Getting closer and closer to rock bottom
Hitting down hard right next to me

I *know she can do it
She just has to want to get better
But what if when that time comes

*It's already too late?

I have
m
     e
          l
                    t
                            e
                                 d
into the simple
idea of you
falling asleep
next to me
again someday.