It's familiar for me to be sad, what I write here, isn't it?
Do you want to trade places? I dare you.
I could sleep through it, but it's too loud. I could ignore it, but the phone keeps ringing. I could walk away from it, but it's faster than me. It sits at the door when I arrive.
If she really meant it, she'd pull that blade up her arm, not across.
If she really meant it, she'd swallow all those pills they keep in the cabinet.
Did she hear it? The years of attempts and ridicule?
She's in the hospital. It's real this time. They had to break the door down.
It's real this time. Over and over in my ears, it's real this time.
It's the anniversary of hell and I'm here again. It's funny in a sick sort of way, to be here again. The past breeds familiarity in the present.
I know my place. I wait. The phone rings.
I go where I am summoned.
She wasn't successful, not tonight. But she will be if she keeps her goal in mind. It's not the first time, afterall. She's learning from her mistakes.
But not tonight.
It's the drive of what she wants. How can you stop the rain from falling down?