One pill was too little,
Two was just enough.
Three was to push the limit.
Four was to prove it wasn't a bluff.
Five was to be thin.
Six was for the hell of it.
Seven was to purge myself from within.
Eight was for my hipbones to stick out like knives.
Nine was to ensure that I might not wake up alive.
Ten little pills, she held them in her hand
Threw them all away, to let her spirit mend.
Supported by her craftsmen,
poets and good friends
She realized, she's not alone
She'll be strong once again.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 2:58 PM UTC
One pill was too little,
Two was just enough.
Three was to push the limit.
Four was to prove it wasn't a bluff.
Five was to be thin.
Six was for the hell of it.
Seven was to purge myself from within.
Eight was for my hipbones to stick out like knives.
Nine was to ensure that I might not wake up alive.
Ten little pills, she held them in her hand
Threw them all away, to let her spirit mend.
Supported by her craftsmen,
poets and good friends
She realized, she's not alone
She'll be strong once again.
Credit to Ana Sophia for the happy ending she gave me.
