I had the pill bottle open,
I was ready to take the plunge.

Blood running down my thighs,
Dripping on the dark wooden floor.

Had written the note,
Saying why I give up.

Had panickly called the hotline,
Shockingly dialed the number.

Hung up when a kind woman answered,
Too scared to be talked out of it.

Spilled the pills in my palm,
The knife still cutting every inch available.

But I wasn’t brave,
Couldn’t do it.

Was a wimp,
So fell asleep.

Rode on the bus,
Wincing from the pain.

Smiled,
Faked.

I can’t find the note,
Did I throw it out.

Did I imagine the night,
Did it really happen.

No I have scars to prove it,
But they are fading.

And I’m fading again,
So will I do it again.

It’s a year later,
I’m braver now.