Musings on Life from a Dead Girl

Pills

They probably think I'm a whore.

In this small town things get out quick.

Someone saw K's daughter getting birth control at so-and-so's pharmacy.

She's not married yet you know.

I count my days on those little pink pills.

I wonder if they talk about me?

I wonder if they think I'm crazy?

I get my Prozac filled there too.

A crazy whore.

As the orange bottles run dry I realize the days are slipping away like grains of sand slipping through my fingers.

Pills pills pills.

I count my days in dosages.

In milligrams.

In pills.