I had the pill bottle open,
I was ready to take the plunge.
Blood running down my thighs,
Dripping on the dark wooden floor.
Had written the note,
Saying why I give up.
Had panickly called the hotline,
Shockingly dialed the number.
Hung up when a kind woman answered,
Too scared to be talked out of it.
Spilled the pills in my palm,
The knife still cutting every inch available.
But I wasn’t brave,
Couldn’t do it.
Was a wimp,
So fell asleep.
Rode on the bus,
Wincing from the pain.
Smiled,
Faked.
I can’t find the note,
Did I throw it out.
Did I imagine the night,
Did it really happen.
No I have scars to prove it,
But they are fading.
And I’m fading again,
So will I do it again.
It’s a year later,
I’m braver now.