The tiny razorblades and the staring pills

 1. I broke a razor apart

Not because I was going to kill myself on that exact moment

More like a laboratory, an experiment

Se what a razor looks like

To my big disappointment, they were tiny razorblades

So thin and fragile and dull

I ran one of them through my thumb with tenderness

Almost like I would run my fingers through my beloved's hair

And felt nothing

Put all three of them together and carefully threw them away

Walked back to bed when I noticed there was blood on my thumb

The tiny razorblades can cut through skin after all

How deep can they cut?

2. Every day and every night has been of pain

I wake up in pain and I go to sleep in pain

It doesn't matter how many times I go to sleep 

It is always in pain

I search for connection, I am screaming for help

I am bleeding through shallow cuts but nobody sees it

Nobody saw the tiny razorblades either

Every morning, I look at the counter and there are pills staring back at me

They are supposed to make me feel better

They are supposed to take the pain away

I swallow them like a religious person who lost their faith

But they keep staring at me

At night, they sneak into the bedroom and suggest that I take just one more

One more muscle relaxer to fall asleep

A couple more drops of this and that

One night, I swallowed pills with alcohol and smoked until I felt dizzy

I went to bed and I was not sure if I would wake up

I didn't matter if I woke up

It was not like I was trying to kill myself

I just didn't care if I died

But I woke up. Tomorrow shoved me out of bed.

I did wake up. And I was in pain.

Every night, and every morning, the pills stare

They stare and remind me that they can be my cure

My salvation, my anchor

But they also whisper that they can be the poison I need

When I need to make the pain stop

Permanently.