Most girls my age
Make a wish at 11:11.
They wish for Prince Charming
Or to travel to romantic places
And they look for good and happiness.
But I, on the other hand,
Used to wish for the bad and scary –
That is, if I thought a wish was worth it at all.
I used to wish for cancer, or a crashed car
Anything that would make those with experience
Hate my very existence
Almost as much as I did.
11:11 meant a time for tears –
Because I was someone who didn’t care,
Someone who didn’t want a future –
What would I wish for?
A slow, painful death at times
A quick, painless one at others.
Everything around me was gone at 11:11 –
Family and friends and love and future –
My surroundings were a fuzzy white screen,
A television without signal,
With no goal, or hope even, for repair.
It is 11:11 once again,
And though I’ve been “fixed,”
I haven’t taken help in days,
Avoided my chemical necessities.
I don’t want any repair, readjustments
Or the liberation of love and romance.
The only thoughts running through my head
Are jumbled and insane,
As I rack my brain for a new wish,
But I realize I am too late;
It is now 11:12, and slowly I remember
I just made the same wish as before.