November 3, 2018
8:00pm, I take two grams of anticonvulsant.
two grams of a medication meant to be enough to end my life, 
but at my darkest point, I was mistaken
suicidality meets idiocracy, breeds
an oxygen tube and an IV 
keeping me
here.

​

November 7, 2018
A war-torn soul gives me words of comfort.
I am walking in the courtyard of the psychiatric unit,
sobbing non-discreetly, my dad flanking my left, 
and a seventeen-year-old girl on my right, months ripe from freedom
Agony, at that moment, bred us to be in the same place. 

she says to me, in that agony bred moment,
the kindest, most war-torn words I’ve ever heard.
She omits my father’s existence and comforts me.
at that moment, suicidality, idiocracy, agony, 
I knew in this world, there was love.

​

November 18, 2018
I am released into a battlefield.
discharged on a whim, needing out of the ward
I am walking the line between life and death, 
every step I take blurs the boundaries of infinity
I am mad. sad. manic.
Why was I alive?
suicidality and idiocracy breed questions.

​

April 29, 2019
I observe that my neighbors have moved away.
taking with them the dogs that used to bark at me,
cameras my paranoia would dodge.
my childhood packed up and gone in a blink.

I also observe that life is picking up for the better.
cuts on my thighs heal with a butterfly kiss
and I smiled down on earth, not from above
but from a vantage point
overlooking the hospital room I was once in
I giggle a little.

​

May 12, 2019
I find myself exploring the woods as a teen for the first time.
entangled, in love, 
I never thought I’d live this long.
I look in my lover's eyes and laugh,
all because I never thought I’d live to be a teen
healed suicidality with a butterfly kiss breeds
solace. 

​

May 23, 2019 
I start intentionally wearing a seatbelt.
my suicidality an opened wound in the past
also left me with an unbuckled seatbelt in the car
maybe hoping for a crash, tasting the looming chance of death.

​

On May 23, 2019, I decided I wanted to live.
I decided I would buckle my seatbelt for me.
I would buckle my seatbelt for my boyfriend.
and for my family.
and for those who love me so much.

and I decided,
my wounds having been healed by a butterfly kiss,
two grams of Lamictal detoxed by some empathetic eyelashes,
it was okay not to know why or how I was here; more time.
I just need more time.