“This is an intervention.” he says
My hands dance on the table on which I've laid my keys.
“W-why?” I stutter.
A thousand thoughts race through my mind.
What do they know?
What did they find?
The Razors?
The knives?
The gun?
The letters?
The bloodstained sheets for every time I lose my little bit of self-control?
The bottle for every time I want to lose that self-control?
“Not for you” he says.
My lungs deflate.
Not me.
Not me.
Not me.
“Who?”
“Danny.”
Danny?
“Why?”
“We think-
we think he might me suicidal”
“What?”
What?
Danny?
Suicidal?
No.
They're clueless.
Danny-
Danny keeps me alive.
He keeps me from using that gun.
I'm the one close to the edge,
not him
I want to scream.
To tell them how stupid          they are.
                        Can they not see it’s me-
not him?
“W-why would you think that?”
“We found a gun.”
My mind spins.
         A gun?
In Danny’s room?
Why?
“And a note.”
A note?
No.
No.
No.
No.
This can’t be happening.
Danny’s supposed to be strong.
He’s supposed to be my angel.
I’m the one who’s supposed to be broken.
Not him.
“We think he’s trying
to convince himself
not to.
The note-
it said
‘Don’t do it.
Think of all the good things.
Think of the people
who have no idea.
The people that love you,
would be devastated if you
pulled the trigger.
Don’t
do
it.’”
My heart stops.
I want to run into my room
grab my bottle
my razors,
maybe my gun.
I should have seen it.
Helping me was helping him.
“C’mon, sit down.
Wait for Danny.”
I sit,
curling my legs under me
so my knees don’t shake.
We wait in silence
My mind is in my room.
controlling the pain,
watching the razor glint in the sunlight,
slicing through flesh,
silent.
My mind is watching the blood well up,
watching t run down my wrist,
watching it fall slowly
hitting the sheet
being soaked up in a perfect ring.
My mind feels the cold metal
as I run my hands along the contours
of my escape.
My mind wonders what death is like.
What if I pulled the trigger
and found out?
What if-?
The door opens.
My mind is ****** back to the present.
“Danny.
This is an intervention.”
His keys drop onto the table next to mine.
“Why?” he asks,
confused, but calm.
“Danny,
we are your friends.
We care about you.
We’d miss you if you were gone.”
He hangs up his coat.
“What are you talking about?”
He sits across from me, staring into my eyes.
Looking for some clue to what was going on.
I look away.
I can’t take it.
“Danny,
we found the gun.”
His head snaps up.
His eyes bore into mine.
“You found that?”
“Yeah, and the note too.
Danny, we love you.
Don’t do it.”
He looks away from me for a moment.
“Excuse me?”
Jake puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Danny, we know you…
want to-
commit suicide.”
“What?!
You think I-
that I
that I’m suicidal?”
He leaps up.
“Danny, this is a safe place.
We love you.
You can talk to us.
We just want to help.”
He stares at me.
“So you
all
think I’m-
suicidal?”
“Yeah, we do, Dan.”
Jake says.
I can feel Danny’s eyes on me.
I keep staring at the floor.
“I-
I guess you got me.”
My head snaps up.
What?
Got him?
He’s really…?
“It’s just sometimes-
sometimes I feel as if-“
I recognize these words.
“life’s not worth living.”
They’re my words.
Exactly what I told him
only six months ago.
“I don’t know why.”
he repeats word for word
His eyes say glued to mine.
Oh my God.
“I know I’ve got people
that love me.
I just can’t help it
sometimes.”
I want to run.
I don’t want to hear this.
I understand now.
It’s not him.
He’s doing this for me.
“I’m sorry.”
Hours go by.
He repeats what I said to him.
Word for word.
I need to get out.
Now.
I might go crazy.
I might scream.
“IT’S NOT DANNY!
The gun is MINE!
The note is for ME!
I’m the one who’s suicidal.
Look at MY wrists.
Danny keeps me alive,
he’s not suicidal.
You’re so blind.
You don’t realize how close I am
to just ending it all.
You don’t see past all the
half-hearted
‘I’m fine’s
‘I’m okay’s
and
‘Don’t worry about me’s.
They’re all lies
I’ve been telling you for
over
a
year.
Wake up.”
Then I’d run to my room,
pull out my razors,
start there.
Let the pain
numb my mind.
So that when I
pull out my knives
I don’t feel the increase
in pressure.
I don’t feel how deep I’m going.
Blood streams down my wrists.
I close my eyes.
I don’t want to.
I try to force my eyelids apart.
They open a tiny bit.
Everything is still black.
I can’t see.
My head feels light.
I’m floating.
I can’t feel anything,
just one arm.
It’s warm.
It tingles.
Faintly,
I hear something slam.
Voices, shouting
in whispers.
I can’t understand.
They need to speak up.
I try to open my mouth to tell them.
I can’t.
Something presses on my warm arm.
I barely feel it.
I feel something lifting me.
I’m being carried.
Downstairs.
What is going on?
I hear something familiar.
I can’t figure out what it is.
Wee woo. Wee woo. Wee woo.
Sirens.
What is going on?
I’m being laid down.
I hear doors slam.
I’m moving again.
Some kind of vehicle.
Oh.
My
God.
Blackout.
Shouting.
Sirens.
Vehicle.
Oh.
My.­
God.
I went too deep.
I’m dying.
After a year of wondering,
I know.
I know what dying is like.
It’s calm.
I’m surprised.
I thought the process would hurt.
But no.
This is nice.
Somehow I know
death will be better.
I try to let it take over.
I can feel it trying now.
It wants to consume me.
to pull me under.
Make me fall asleep
and never wake up.
I want it to.
I’m not fighting.
But I still won’t die.
Why?
I try to relax.
I try to pretend I’m already dead.
I’m floating
just in nothingness.
It works.
I feel myself drift off.
Before I lose consciousness,
I have one thought.
‘Goodbye.’

Something stings.
A sharp pain in my right arm.
Why?
I’m supposed to be dead.
There shouldn’t be pain.
My left arm is stiff.
What is going on?
Maybe this is Hell.
Maybe that’s why I’m in pain.
Oh
my
God!
I am in Hell!
Why?
What did I do that was so awful?
Suicide, I know,
but still.
I don’t deserve Hell.
I try to open my eyes,
but everything is bright.
Too bright.
Artificially bright.
Something smells weird.
Like anesthetic.
Cleaner.
I hear a beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Why does Hell feel like a hospital?
I force my eyes open.
Everything is white.
White bed.
White walls.
White door.
White floor.
A machine is sitting next to me.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
A green line dashes across the monitor,
following five double triangles.
My arms still stings.
An IV leads to a bag of clear liquid.
My left arm is heavily bandaged.
What kind of Hell is this?
The door opens.
Danny walks in.
“Hey.” he says.
“Hi.” I say quietly.
He sits in the chair next to the bed.
carefully, he takes my hand.
“What were you thinking?
I thought you said
you’d never go this far.
You said you had it under control.
You were trying to stop.”
He stares at me.
Waiting.
“I-
I don’t know.
I was trying.
Just…
hearing what everyone said.
Hearing my words
come out of your mouth.
Realizing how stupid they are.
I couldn’t take it.
I couldn’t listen to it anymore.
I had to get out of there.
So I screamed what I did.
Then I went in my room and-
started cutting.
I didn’t mean to go so deep.
I didn’t realize I did it.
Danny,
I’m sorry.”
“I know.
When you-
lost consciousness,
you had-
a smile on your face.
Why?”
I close my eyes.
I try to remember.
Everything is hazy.
I remember darkness.
I remember being pulled down.
I remember letting myself be pulled.
I remember wanting it.
Wanting to die.
I shiver.
“I-
I thought I was going to die.”
Danny’s jaw tightens.
“And that was a thought to make you smile?
I thought you said you didn’t mean to
go so deep.”
“I didn’t mean to.
It just…
happened.
And once it did,
well,
there wasn’t anything I could do.
So I just-
welcomed it.
I wanted it.
I was happy about it.”
He pulls his hand from mine.
“You wanted to die.”
he says calmly.
“You knew that.
You’ve known that
for six months.”
“No.
I knew you thought about dying.
I knew you thought about finding an easy out.
I knew you wanted an escape.
If I had known
that you wanted
to die
I would’ve kept my mouth shut.
I wouldn’t have bothered trying to save you.
If only I had known you were a lost cause,
we wouldn’t be here.”
I’m speechless.
What do I say to that?
How do I respond to hearing I’m not
worth saving?
“D-Danny. How could
you say that to me?
You know how I-
how I am.
You know what started this.
You know-“
“I know what
I know. But I didn’t
know how far gone you were.
If I had…
Well,
what’s the point?
You’re intent on
ending your
life.
I  can’t stop you.
I wish you wouldn’t.
But it’s out of my control.”
He stands,
and I’m surprised
I have no tears to shed.
He’s right.
I would have messed up
eventually.
Or I would have done it on purpose
eventually.
I’m not savable.
There’s no hope for me
anymore.
Assuming there was any
to begin with.
I glance down at my arm
wrapped in white
the end tucked somewhere
I can’t even see.
I suppose that’s so I don’t unwrap it.
They must have told
what happened.
Though I think
it’s pretty obvious.
I feel along it, trying to find
a way
to unwrap it.
This is it.
If I had died
before,
it would have been an
accident.
An accident
I could have avoided
and that I caused,
but I had no
intention
to commit
at that moment.
But now?
Now it’s intentional.
I slip the fingers of my right hand
under the edge
and pull.
The bandage begins to unravel,
so much fabric!
I find the stitches
holding my life in.
I pull the IV
put of my right arm,
letting the tube dangle above the floor.
I take one last deep breath,
and yank at the stitches.
My blood starts
poring
out, soaking the sheet
and the bed
and dripping to the floor.
The last thing I hear,
before I lose consciousness
for the last time
is the IV.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip….

Why do you make me bleed bleed, bleed bleed, keep me bleeding,
It's like you're only happy when I'm on the edge of walking away and leaving,
You love me confused, blurred between sanity and insanity,
But every moment whether it's with or without you is calamity,
And I'm so close to losing it again,
The psych ward is becoming my best friend,
And I don't like it, but you don't seem to give a single ****,
I'm just waiting for when my heart said it's had enough,
Cause that ******* is dumb as ****,
Let's you beat it to pulp and asks for one more hit,
My head's been screaming for awhile now to please let go and not to linger,
But I still have at least have one more fiber of skin left hanging on in my *******,

******* for not walking away when you can see I'm incapable,
You're not gonna leave me until I'm broken and beyond savable,
You want every piece of me that's not broken, and I'll tell you it's not many,
And all the shards are screaming out, "Please somebody save me!'

You, you just love that I love you, and it's not quite the same,
As a love that doesn't keep making you feel more in (*******) sane,
But I don't think you really know the difference,
You only think love is real when it's toxic as ****,
And me, I just want for once to feel okay,
Not to wake up dreading another day,
But you, you don't care as long as I'm paying attention,
What happens though if you push me over the edge of my depression?
Just one step too many and you know I'll down a hand-full of pills,
Not look back until I wake up in the ER or looking down at myself buried under a hill,
Sometimes though I wonder,
If you want me six feet under,
Just for the ability,
To ask other girls for their sympathy,

******* for not walking away when you can see I'm incapable,
You're not gonna leave me until I'm broken and beyond savable,
You want every piece of me that's not broken, and I'll tell you it's not many,
And all the shards are screaming out, "Please somebody save me!'

Smile when sad,
Cry when mad,
Hit when happy,
Laugh at what we cant have,
Destroy our homes,
Rebuild our enemies,
Hurt our friends,
And **** ourselves,
What a strange world we live in,
Leave the ones we love,
Praise the ones we hate,
**** the innocent,
Hurt the savable,
Save the pain,
**** the joy,
Free the killers,
What a strange world we live in

YOUR A **** UP

Disappointed.
Failure.
Hatred.
Unlovable.
Stupid.
Immature.
D­isgraceful.
**** UP.

There isn't any way around it. You are such a **** UP.
You ruined everything. Nothing is savable.
Where did you go so wrong?
How did you get caught?
******* it you stupid girl. Wake Up.
YOUR NOTHING.

The conversation lasted into the
long tooth hours of the night.
She read her textbooks and then heard a mouse with its tail barely caught in a glue trap. It squealed as if it were dying. In my heart I believed it was savable. In the agony I imagined him dreaming of fields and insects and seeds.
She had these cold gray eyes.
In one quick movement, she took off
one of her clodhoppers and smashed its brains out. She cleaned her shoe with a tissue, she said, I neither hate the mouse nor love it, it's just a thing.  At that moment I was pretty sure she was psychotic.
We're both drunk, I kept watching her *** in that tight  black dress.
She said in a very automated voice, I suppose you want to **** me now and then slithered out of the dress.
***** is *****
But I couldn't do it. I told her to put her clothes back on and not **** anything on the way out.

girl like: can recite digits of pi up to number 25. got a mouth full of razors but will find a way to speak around them so she can spit out the answers to last night’s math problems. girl like: walking around with one million useless facts that will never save her life and one million useless feel-good quotes about yoga which won’t save her life neither, girl like: need her on our classroom jeopardy team but don't need her for much else unless we need somebody to stand in the middle of the room and just scream
girl like: you kissed her on a night where she got drunk for the first time and you were the whole bottle of fireball but nobody pulled her away from you because when girl like this parties, people think it’s funny that she has no sense of danger
girl like: walking on glass, girl like balancing act, girl like “it’s easy if you understand weight distribution,” girl handling a crime scene easy because the one in her left temple is sort of sloshing around and spreading past the edges and one of these days she’s gonna have to deal with it in some other way rather than “the angle of the bloodspatter shows the angle of the assault” rather than “i’m fine i’m just tired” rather than “sure i’ll help you study for the final” rather than being in the backseat of her mother’s minivan and silently weeping without anyone seeing and for reasons she can’t quite put a finger on 
girl like: she apologizes because this area her body is a building in renovation so the appearance is unsightly and truth be told she has no idea if she’s going to tear it down or build it up but the mystery is sort of exciting isn’t it - and you’re trying to scrape her off the ground with your eyebrows in that little knot people get when they’re upset but don’t know really how to fix it and she keeps running and she says: listen, the specific heat of wood is pretty high, you know. her feet are burning, nevermind her soul
girl like: science is amazing isn’t it don’t you know objects in motion tend to keep speeding towards a brick wall and i’ve shot myself out of the barrel of a gun wanna see the angle of the bloodspatter wanna walk across the coals wanna stick your fingers in the glass of my brain wanna turn up the music so nobody hears the stitches coming undone darling i’m sorry i’m not savable we’ve tried everything darling i’m sorry i come off like i’ve got everything in between my fingers but darling being up-to-date on my homework doesn’t make me strong being good at hiding it doesn’t make me the voice of success being able to laugh when my brain is a mess just makes me sad it doesn’t make me a hero
girl like: my favorite digit of pi happens to be zero.

Hey, kid
Your eyes hold things only grown men should see
Don't worry, little one, the sting of mortality only lasts for forever
Hey, kid
The way you lug your weary body around haunts my sleep
Don't worry, little one, the bad certainly cannot last for eternity
Hey, kid
Is that a knife in your hand?
Come on, little one, think things through
Life won't always be unfair to you  
Hey, kid
Why'd you **** her?
That orphanage could have been your saving grace
Now you're indefinitely
A ward of the state
Hey, kid
I found your brothers and sisters
Their gravestones side by side
How lovely they look, adorned with dead flowers
Kid, where's your ma?
Hey, you can't go in there
Come on, buddy, the cops'll find ya
Let's go home
Hey......
Arson won't solve your problems, kid
I'm losing hope
In your lost world
I tried to help ya, kid
But you have to want
To be savable
Hey........
I just got the call
What a shame, what a waste
I'll miss you, kid.

Finding something to write about that's not you is quite hard these days. It's really odd, I know you don't love me anymore and I don't love you anymore (maybe) but you're still all I think about. I guess because you were such a big part of my life for five months. Then you moved on in a week and it's total naivety of the situation hit me. How could you possibly have loved me? You moved on in a week, I'm just an idiot. I wish I could talk to you about it, but you don't really care enough to give me answers, and that's okay. I can make assumptions as long as your fine with it. I snooped through your phone and read you and one girl's messages. They were a little more than friendly I'd say, but hey, it was your prerogative. Then there was the other girl, and I should have realized so much sooner you were falling for her, but there comes the naive thing again. We both knew, though, that we weren't going to last. You were falling out of love, and I could feel it. Love is like a game of tug of war and as soon as one side lets go, the one that's still holding on falls flat on their ***. I mean truth be told, I was going to break up with you a month prior, but I didn't because I thought maybe we could fix things. Things were too far gone at that point though to really even be considered savable. I lost trust in you, you lost love for me. I wish for once you'd be honest with me though. Manned up and admitted you were falling for her while we were together. I wish that maybe we could be friends, but we definitely can't be right now because you're not open enough to be real with me. You're intimidated by my bluntness and mistake it for attachment. I'm moving on. Hell yeah it's hard. I mean, I loved you so much, but I can't change the fact that you don't love me. I'm not just going to hold onto something if there's no point. Anyways, it's probably better if we're not together. It's been almost two weeks and I feel better than I had in my relationship with you. You made me feel so insecure and ugly that I hated myself until you were near me. I didn't love myself because I need you to validate that I meant something more than flesh and bone. But you left and I grew. I'm learning to love myself more and more everyday. I don't let anyone step on me anymore ,and I don't let people disrespect me. Life's been really good, and I'm learning to live without you. I never thought I would.


                                                     Cest la vie

You're trying to save me
Baby I'm un-savable.
You're wanting me,
But God you're consuming me
You're drowning me.
Please just ******* disarm me
Trying to disentangle my thoughts
I gotta be numb for this.
My minds a hell you can't forgive
This'll lead you to leaving me
And officially unraveling me.

You are 100 Percent, Worthwhile,  for Christ died for Your sins.

You are 100 Percent, savable by the Creator of the whole Universe.

You are 100 Percent, Usable for He can use You to reach out to others.

You are 100 Percent, Lovable for the Savior loves You so very much.

You are 100 Percent,capable of Repentance with Christ helping You.

You are 100 Percent, for Your life can be changed in an heartbeat too.

You are 100 Percent, Your very soul being delivered is Christ plan.

You are 100 Percent, He sent His Son to the earth 2000 years ago.

You are 100 Percent, To die a sinners death to Save Your Soul .

Someone lived here once.
Families were raised.
Gardens were grown.
Animals, pets and livestock, wandered about.
Clothes hung on the line.
There were children and lovers and hopes,
bright as sunflowers.

Once. Not now.

Now, the neglect has driven them all away.
What was it? Poverty?
What was it? Broken hearts and trauma?
Too much to survive?
Greener grass waved in front of them,
a temptress,
and no one left to fill the walls anew.
Eventually, always, an abandonment.

It’s a cute little house, well situated
in a post card colored field.
Still savable, but you have lived here long enough
to know how this story goes.

You have restored a few homes in your day,
brought then back from the brink,
none of them a perfect restoration. Few are.
But enough that there was life in them again.
Gardens and hopes bloomed anew
and the paint shown bright. The rot removed.
They became homes again,
not merely houses, waiting to fall.

But you cannot save them all.

It is the lesson you learned in your own restoration.
There is only so much of you
and you will use it as well as you are able.
restoring those closest to you
as you work on yourself.
It should be enough,

but still, you mourn.