She couldn’t take the pain so she popped another pill, the small relief compounded thus to override her will. And as he walked away she cried and popped another pill, she felt so alone again that she popped another pill. She sat in that lonely room for days, and on the window sill, was another whole **** bottle so she popped another pill. Her friends began to worry so and asked if she was ill, she lied and said “of course not” then she popped another pill. Her days were made of chewing them then swallowing and still, it wasn’t enough to ease the pain so she popped another pill. I should have taken action but instead I just stood still, so as her life began to fade I popped another pill. After time she passed away and was buried on the hill, still dressed in black I cried for days and popped another pill. I never took the chance to tell her how I really feel, but now she’s gone and I’m alone just popping god ****** pills.