Black Sleep
I wash the handful of pills down with some boxed wine
because I’m not fancy
and even if I was
I’m past the point of caring
because everyone else is past the point of caring about me
It’s all become too much
the loneliness
the pain
the memories
I’m determined to finish what I started at the age of 14
when my mother’s medicine cabinet didn’t wield the proper combination of the black sleep I was seeking
I can count on a few fingers the number of people who will miss me
everyone else will just find me pathetic
as pathetic as they found me in life
but still be surprised that I ended it all
because I always seemed so strong
But those same people will pretend to care
after I am ashes
because they think it’s the proper thing to do
if they really cared they would have shown it
in life
and not just in death
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 
I would care, not that I am anybody, but I would. Your words could be mine most of the time, only without your writing, my words would be silenced.
I’m glad I can be your words, though I’m sorry you feel like me, because it’s a really shitty place to be, and I wish I knew how to get out of it. My melancholia comes and goes. Thanks so much for reading and commenting! It’s much appreciated!