The First Time

The first time,
is not when people thought it was…
The first time,
she was scared, she was little.
She was not in college, defeated, depressed.

The first time,
she was innocent.
she was  sad.
she was confused.

That nine year old girl,
thinking thoughts so deep
so complex,
they needed to be analyzed
with a microscope.

If we could scoop the thoughts of that little girl
and spread them on a mannitol plate.
If we could take those thoughts and perform a quadrant streak,
we could find, just maybe,
each string that broke her.

And so she lied that night.
Of a headache,
and carelessly her mother told her to get herself medicine.
Everything as planned.
And she did.
She got tylenol. and tylenol. and tylenol.
She began to cry,
as she walked back to her bed.

For hours she looked at the medicine.
She banged her head on the bedpost,
hoping her headache would be real.
And her attempt to die, was really just an attempt to feel better.
In the end she took the tylenol.
She didn’t take that much because the bottle scared her.
It said not to take more than 2 every 4-6 hours.
But she thought certainly 12 will kill her.
And it didn’t.

And she woke up sick,
and her head really did hurt.
And she cried,
because she wanted to die
just a little bit more than she wanted to feel better.



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