Wake up.
Get in the shower.
Barely awake.
Get dressed.
Old jeans, baggy t-shirt.
Eat breakfast.
One piece of bread.
Take pills.
Go to school.
Bell one, history class.
Talk about a million things that’ll never happen to you.
Bell two, math class.
Bend numbers to make them say what we want.
To make them make sense.
Bell three, dress out.
Run track in circles.
Going no where.
Lunch.
Not hungry, don’t eat.
Give away all my food.
Go to the bathroom.
Sit in a stall just to be alone.
Cry.
Fourth bell, English.
Read some of my poetry to the class.
Get funny looks.
Realize that I sound like a freak.
Shuffle back to seat awkwardly.
Go home.
Don’t talk on the bus.
Listen to sad songs.
Text boyfriend.
Tell him how I feel awful.
Worry about him.
Cause he feels awful too.
Blow off homework.
Band practice at church.
Cry when I try to sing.
Where is God?
Come home.
Mom makes me eat.
“You’re wasting away.”
No, mom.
I’m already gone.
Take more pills.
Try to fall asleep.
Lay there.
Wish I wasn’t alone.
Crying optional.
Pray to a god I don’t believe in.
Just hope that he gets better.
Listen to iPod.
To keep the silence away.
Fall asleep, finally.
Wake up an hour later.
Then 2 hours later after that.
Repeat.