What to do . . .

My heart is cold
And I feel blue
Why do I feel the way I do?

I feel the earth below me
Like a pillow under my head
No knives, no guns, but some pills instead.

The bottle lays empty
Cap unscrewed
What will I do? What will I do?

Will my lover find me?
What will he say?
What will he think of the choice I made?

Will he pound the ground
and scream why oh why?
Or will he JUST say good bye?

My parents will arrive,
my sister too,
they ask out loud "what did she do?"

I look away,
but the pains too deep,
my life could be over because of me.

I look at the bottle
for one last glance
And I contemplate the consequence.

©Felicia Alcaraz 7/10/10