I call suicide hotlines in my dreams
and hope I'll still have the numbers
memorized when I wake.

I never say how bad I am
in those dreams because
911 is just three clicks away.

I don't tell them about the blood
dripping down my tattooed arms -
scars tell stories but not ones I want to tell.

I tell the operator that I'm "upset"
as I play pyramid solitaire
with a new notch in my suicide bed post.

When I awake I don't have
the courage to dial the numbers
and my cries echo in my foggy room.