• Right now I'm starting to feel the pills sink into my bloodstream a rush to the head, a mind altering swirl adderall safe at last, at last I have math to do and a history skit to write i have so much time to fix things if i can keep my eyes open i feel too invincible to let it slip away in the shower with water i felt so afraid here on dry land i'm almost back to okay no one cares if i am happy and i don't know what happy is I'm not sure if i should bother sleeping is it okay to be a zombie? will anybody stop me? Nothing matters, I am small I can leave my bubble anytime i want suicide is not really quitting this right here, this leaving for a while? now that is really quitting because i still get to keep the secret of leaving warm flesh behind It is completely ridiculous how many great writers have killed themselves Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolfe, Anne Sexton they weren't meant for this world, too gifted in a way when you master the words, everything can sound pretty poetry of a grave, a cut, the rocks in a pocket when you have the talent, you begin to understand nothing is ever as plain as it seems

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