another bad day.
it was nothing strange or foreign, nothing odd or unnatural. expected, it was. waited for. she rose with the sun as she always did, following the moon's guidance as she fell into bed. but the events of the days before never succumbed to something that was loved.
her eyes drape a moment
too long
upon a bottle of prescription pills,
she does not have a headache.
her hand obliges to her pleas of subjugation and multiple pills shine blue in her hands, some spilling onto the floor and clinking away to never be found again
she takes two,
places them into her mouth
takes a swig of water
and lies down.
another bad day
there is
a reoccurrence of
unwanted emotional distress
wondering if this is at all worth it
and yearning for the reasons why
she cannot allow herself to dwell on these things for much longer. it simply is another bad day, but there is nothing she can do about that. nothing she can change.
maybe if
she just lets go
she will stop living in the coruscating hell that has became her life,
maybe if
she grows wings
she can soar into an abyss and become one with the stars.
she cannot do these things.
no matter how much she needs to.
her eyes open — a new day may await, fresh with opportunity, love, and happiness.
her bathroom tile presses into her feet as she cleans her face and peers at her lonely eyes. the sun glares obnoxiously through her window.
she slips on her shoes, grabs her things —
comes home after a long day.
another bad day
her woes go unheard because
no one is listening
her tears drip
soundlessly onto the floor.
