Edit.

Poem version of the prose piece located here.

The image in the mirror
is unclear,
distorted by tears.

A face,
so familiar,
but not mine.
Not anymore.

The girl who once
lived behind that face
died. Not so long
ago-
but long enough.

The steel frame
of the mirror
swings out under
my shaking hand.

Bottles fill the shelves,
covered
with various labels.

I grab a few bottles
and spread their contents
on the table.
How many will I need?

I’m so sick of this-
I just want it to be over.
I’ve waited long enough.
I scoop them all up
and pop them into my mouth
one by one.

I don’t know how long this
will take.
I hope there’s no pain.

I crawl into my bed
and pull up the covers.
“Goodnight.”
I whisper, as I drift
into my eternal sleep.