The third level of a staircase that rises to five.
Too weak to make it to the top,
Knife in one hand,
Empty pill-bottle in the other.

They find her
Colorless and cold
Upon the empty stairs
With weapons dropped and phone in hand,
Resting on a contact that was never called,
For her fingers were too frail.
Pallid skin chills their hearts.
A note begins “I love you all…”
“I’m sorry” carved into her thigh.
Crusty, red liquid spilled beneath her.
A face devoid of any emotion.

You’re too late.
A heart is steadily silent.
Lungs are stubbornly empty.
A body is willfully lifeless.

A bleeding flesh wound –
I am the fingernail digging in sharply,
Deepening the cave of plasma and color.
I am the itching when healing attempts
To envelop the skin in beige-clustered hues.
I am the crusty, brown layer on top,
Unsightly for certain and unwanted at best.

Did no one teach you? No matter your stance,
Ignoring a scab to its slow, subtle parting
Will still leave a scar behind. –
I gracefully linger, for these scars don’t fade.

My plastic smile and rigid joints
Exist for your manipulation.
My trembling skin and the flesh beneath
Are simply here for your pleasure.
My painted eyes and callused hands
Live to seek your amusement.
My unsteady mind and elastic heart
Die to be under your power.
But don’t forget to return me to
My quiet, reticent place,
Return me to the toy box
Before I’m pawned to the inconspicuous.

With all the disdain and deception of late,
I want to, again, place at my side
The comforting cold of the clear,  orange container.
And I’m scared of what may happen if I do –
But I’m scared of what may happen if I don’t.

This life has proven that every day
The world will attempt to convince me that
I’m no different than anyone else ,
That I’ll never amount to anything better
Than these plastic dimples by which I’m surrounded,
That I’m not enough –
Nor will I ever be.

But it’s then that I remember why I haven’t succumbed
During these last three months.
And it’s then that I remember I am irreplaceable.
So just give up, because I’m a diamond in the rough,
Buried beneath this scorn and smile,
And I dare you to dig deep to my soul,
I dare you to let me discover yours.

With dignity and grace,
I walk along.

With dignity and grace,
I walk alone.

A mistake worth making?
I may never know.

A mistake worth feeling?
I may never show.

When I finally find the stable ground,
I make it my means to make myself fool,
So, commence the run, and don't turn around,
Because no one is looking back.

And there's so much I want you to know that you don't believe in.
And there's so much I see that you need to see.
And I wish I could show you the brightness and talent that exudes from your being.
But I don't want to be written off with others who have said the same.
You are truly amazing and gifted.
Please believe in that;
Maybe I'm just scared to say it,
But that will never remove its truth.