“Its just too much.
Its just
too ******* much,”
she thinks.

As she drinks
a thick liquid
filled with
the pills
she feels
will make her
cease to feel
anything.

Specifically, perfected
the pills that she selected
we’re taking by design
to stop her body
and her mind.

With the last bits
of her energy
she gently sweeps
her cats out of
the rooms where she
plans to sleep
eternally.

“Don’t want you guys
to eat my face,
while my rotting corpse
attract a lot of flies,”
she says with a cynical
chuckle.

Consciousness edging out
she slits her wrists
to hedge her death bet.

Then she collapses,
a bridge broken
under the pressure
of three years
of compounding pain,
disappointment,
and heartbreak.

Almost two days later
she awakes
to a numb face,
and clumsy brain.

Drained,
she stumbles in vain
to get cleaned up
and go to work.
Does everything
but
shaves her legs.

She checks her pain
physically nothing hurts
but emotionally
she cannot ascertain
anything with any
certainty.

Still, struggling.
With doubt
but she reaches out
to her mother,
and finds a way to
connect to another
as her small circle
draws her
back to a life
she is still not sure she wants.