Drifting Poem by Kaitlin Schmidt

The light tends to flicker and the door
doesn't close all the way when
the walls know I'm here
with this bottle of
pills.

The sting, from the intentional knick
of his words on my body
release a poison I probably
deserved-
boomerang.

Adding pressure to the pain of stubbed hopes
so that when the numbing kicks in
it won't matter how hard I tried.
The stretch of the fine print hoovers over my wants
And I see the air
And I feel the hours
And hear the screams of the silence

I guess I can't know for sure how to
do anything until after it's done
because the more I wonder the more I
Wonder.

And then it's dark.

The exit sign beams, but it
doesn't clean up my mess
it only hangs as I
pray the music I hear
isn't from the days without worry
or from the games I used to play.