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Sep 2014
Standing in the bathroom,
I lock the door.
No guns,
No one would hear me.

I bend down,
Reach inside the cupboard,
Searching for something.
I find it.

My fingers curl,
Around a container,
And I shake it a bit,
I hear it.

My breath is shaky,
When I take out the pills,
This is what I want,
This is how it is going to be.

Tears fall,
I think of the words,
As I ***** the lid,
Off.

The computer screen,
Flashes in my mind,
I picture the words,
In front of my very eyes.

'***** ,
My hand goes in,
Grabs a pill,
And I put it between my lips.

'*****',
I swallow,
Tasting the disgust,
But reach down,
For more.

'****',
I grasp another,
But find it hard,
To swallow,
With the lump in my throat.

'***',
The tears streaming,
Can't stop my hand,
That reaches down,
As a sob escapes.

Four pills,
I feel drowsy,
But I keep going,
I need to do this.

Five pills,
I sob at the harsh words,
That flash again and again,
In my brain.

Six pills,
I hear the front door slam,
They know,
But I'm almost done.

Seven pills,
I see white,
I can't smile,
But I can see my future.

Eight pills,
I fall to the ground,
The bottle slips from my hand,
As I slip from the world.

*

I open my eyes,
To see my mother looking down,
I didn't do it,
I failed.
You are pretty, no matter what they say. Beautiful, I know it.
Bipolar Hypocrite
Written by
Bipolar Hypocrite  In Crazy.
(In Crazy.)   
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