5:43 PM - the memory of something that never occured
today she felt like dying. she felt like downing a gallon of drink and a few bottles of feelers and rolling over on her back, hands and feet up, eyes blank, and ceasing her existence.
but the patterns on the wall kept her staring, intrigued, like she was finding characters to keep her company in the dry wall. her fingernails were dirty and her mouth smelled of sex. and her hair was messed with a hint of vomit from four nights ago. she had leaned over her friend, the toilet, and died.
she felt no emotion as she lay there, watching the walls and listening to the couple fight in the next apartment over. she felt weak. she felt alone. she liked it that way.
she liked knowing no one could hurt her but herself. she liked thinking about the things she'd gone through and how lame everything seemed now. she stood up and walked to her bathroom, stepping on a broken mirror and cutting her foot.
the bathroom was dark, with no windows and no electricity. she liked that too.
"im trying, im trying, im trying! get off my back before i kill myself"
but the patterns on the wall kept her staring, intrigued, like she was finding characters to keep her company in the dry wall. her fingernails were dirty and her mouth smelled of sex. and her hair was messed with a hint of vomit from four nights ago. she had leaned over her friend, the toilet, and died.
she felt no emotion as she lay there, watching the walls and listening to the couple fight in the next apartment over. she felt weak. she felt alone. she liked it that way.
she liked knowing no one could hurt her but herself. she liked thinking about the things she'd gone through and how lame everything seemed now. she stood up and walked to her bathroom, stepping on a broken mirror and cutting her foot.
the bathroom was dark, with no windows and no electricity. she liked that too.
"im trying, im trying, im trying! get off my back before i kill myself"