i force my eyes open
only for them to meet the white ceiling
staring back, as the light from the soundless
tv changed the white to pink,
the pink to red,
and the red to black,
making my bedroom as dark as i felt inside.
i can’t bring myself to move a limb,
because i know that if i did,
it’d make it all real.
i’m still here.
maybe if i laid there long enough,
i’d sink into the endless slumber
that i was supposed to fall into to begin with.
the colors dancing on my ceiling
called me a failure
over
          and
                    over
         ­                     and
                                        ­over
again until i shut my eyes,
and the only thing staring
back at me were the words
‘failed attempt’
in bold, bright lettering.