What Once Was

It’s not what you think. I promise. Today is just not going the way I want it to. My plans aren’t working out. My body is disfigured. And my friends are all leaving. But I know I can fix it. It’ll be something that’ll unite those I love together. And maybe, just maybe they’ll remember me. So I strip myself naked and soak myself in the clear, warm water. My body falls numb, and my hands do as they’re told. The thin metal square slices my veins as a glorious gold liquid leaks from my wrists, Staining the water a shiny yellow as if I’m swimming in the sun. Hairy, twisted tendrils stick to my face. My eyes search the ceiling. My mouth sings a familiar melancholic song. Finally, I drift under. Succumbing to what once was. What I did, didn’t fix anything. Because no one will remember a girl, Who was never known to begin with.