Sick to my stomach I try to put the words in a fine, fine line. They stop and they go and come back, but still wrong. I haven’t said a word in hours. I’m quiet. I’m still. If I move the tears will spill. Run down my face, but I can’t take it today. Tonight. Alone and mad, bitter and scared. Wishing bad things to happen but at the same time trying not to think at all. I feel dizzy. I want pills. Mood swings again.
Happy. Positive. Bitter. Mad. Sad. Hate. Love. Crazy. Relax. Scream. Cut. Pills. Hurt. Careless and then WHY.
I managed to put the words in a line. My thoughts. The words that are being said loudly inside my head. The words making me wish I was dead.