it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. my sister lies in a hospital bed after a suicide attempt. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. yesterday i was at the mall while my sister was rushed to the er. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. she swallowed a bottle of pills yesterday to try to make the hurt go away. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. her heart rate went down too low. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. she needed me when i wasn't there. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. my nightmares have become a reality. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. she's not dead, but she isn't alive. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. the demons lurk in her eyes and i want them gone as much as she does. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. she looked so pale with the charcoal staining her tongue black. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. i sit here with a blade and consider breaking my promise. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. i continue to repeat these lines. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. maybe it's a mantra, but it feels like my last words. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. i want her back home. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. the desperation in my soul begins to surface. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. come home soon squish. it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen. otherwise i might join you in that hospital bed.
She's out of danger and healthy enough for now. But the mental hospital isn't home.