She wonders what things would be like if it had worked, Actually saying that last good-bye, Actually taking those pills, Actually cutting a little deeper. Because then She wouldn't have to wonder anymore, She wouldn't have to lie, She wouldn't have to pretend.
		She Is Me
			She sat upright at her little wooden desk. A blank piece of paper lay in front of her, a black pen rest between her fingers. Her eyes burned as hot, painful tears poured down her cheeks. A million thoughts were racing through her mind. The demons had taken over once again. As her hand lowered the pen to the paper she noticed it was shaking uncontrollably. Her breath caught in her throat, she yelled out a cry. She raised both hands to her head and wrapped her hair around her fingers and she pulled until she felt her scalp begin to rip. She sat this way for a few minutes and then collected herself once again. She reached for the pill bottles that rested on the far corner of her desk. Pill by pill she emptied the bottles in her mouth.