'Nevermore Than A Few Words'

The Dreamed Silence

    It's calling me. The darkness whispers my name like sweet strawberries dipped in chocolate.
  It's tempting to just go.

The pills are by my bed, they rattle when I turn over. The alcohol in my hand, smelling fermented but sweet to the touch.

The syrup trickles down my throat, it doesn't taste like it used too. The burning has turned to a dull ache and instead my feelings are gone.

Trying not to be alone in the depressive episode but everyone would rather not. I have cried wolf too many times.

Somehow I've managed to push away the only people who could stomach my presence.
The silence and loneliness biting at my ankles, wishing someone would listen to me screaming.

At this point in my life I've stopped caring. I don't care about my job. If I lose it, I lose it.
I don't care about my weight if I gain it, it's not like I'll be here for much longer anyway.

I don't care if I can't see my sisters, they will be fine without me.

I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care...

Nobody does. So why should I?

I dream of the silence that's calling to me. Maybe I'll finally have peace.