I can feel myself
sliding away.
I try to speak.
I try to let the words
spill, but I
clam up.
My vocal chords
freeze, and
nothing comes out.
I gape and gasp like a
frog,
but all of me
chokes up.

My throat tingles,
my tongue goes to the back of my
mouth.
My mind is turning
against me.

I think strange thoughts.
What would happen if I
took this pen and
shoved it down my
throat?
If I drank all my
pills?
If I curled up in a corner and mumbled
insanities
to myself-
nonstop?

I want to
kick and scream,
flail around on the ground and
give myself rugburns
Slam into things and bruise.
Take a razor to my
legs, arms
I've done it before.
I have scars.
Scars of insanity.

But am I really
insane?
Would they really help me at a
loony bin?
I think not.
I'm not even insane,
though.
I'm just a
stupid,
naive,

hopeless

hormonal teenager.
And besides,
I may be too far gone into my
withdrawal.
It's too late.
I can't go back to the way I was
before,
when I was
happier.



It's all too late.