you inhale
and lock the door
you can’t do it anymore
a single thought
that’s all it takes
then you’ve made your last mistake
you close your iceberg blue eyes
and count from one to ten
looks like you’ll never speak again
you open your eyes
lower the razor to your wrist
it’s your two dollar psychologist
there’s no turning back now
the blood wells on the vertical cut
honey, this is deliberate
salty tears roll down your red cheeks
and on the tiled bathroom floor
a roaring waterfall of red is gushing forth
you collapse
the pinpricks of black start coming
all of a sudden, your vision goes fuzzy
you exhale
your last thought comes when
you realize you’ll never breathe again