pain is
coughs up blood from the first go. somehow you can get the pain to stop - just for a second, a minute, and it'll all be fine. that's what you tell yourself. someday it'll stop. someday it'll all end. the pain will stop the pain will stop thepainwillstop thepainwillstop
dry heaving is never fun. the front of the toilet bowl is all you can see, blood and tears and sweat. push back a little; slide against the opposite side of the tiled wall, feel the cold of the floor beneath your feverish skin. everything seems so horrible. nothing is going right.
maybe you're drunk? no, that can't be. you don't remember drinking. that's silly - you promised you wouldn't drink that much, drinking is bad for you. but how else would you have all happening to you? your life isn't your fault. your life isn't your fault. but it is. your life is your fault because it's your life.
your throat chokes up. it's hard to breathe, crying and throwing up and screaming at the same time. your throat is sore and raw, your voice rattling around but unable to make sound. the world is hazy, seen through a vague lens of transparent film. blink. nope, still not clear. it hurts, your head, and your heart, and you want to throw up everything in your body until there's nothing left, until you're an empty shell and then maybe you can fill that up with something else - something happy - something that will make the pain stop because all you want is for the pain to stop
laugh, giggle, another tear falls down and when you cough, there's blood on your hand. pain doesn't stop. pain isn't like that. pain is your friend, please learn, please learn.
life can end in five pills.
swallow it down your throat, and pain won't like it. pain will go away. pain will stop bothering you. pain isn't your friend but at the same time pain is your lover. pain is your confidant and your enemy. swallow, swallow, and pain will be nothing.
swallow, swallow, the pain will stop.
five little pills. just five, small, little pills. brain will shut down. sleep. heart will stop beating. no more hurt. limbs will stop moving. joints will stop creaking, mouths will stop speaking. it's all so easy. swallow, and you're done.
coward you are, hissing to yourself as you cry, cry, wipe away your tears to be replaced with more, lean over the edge of the toilet bowl for one more round. you don't want to die, dying is easy, and you don't deserve easy. take it slow and become poison. life will end and you will be the one to hold the strike. life can end in five pills, with a swallow, but life will not end until you've become empty enough to see nothing in your reflection.