I Don't Think I Can Make It

I lay sobbing on my bedroom floor and consider the unthinkable

No one would suspect these thoughts from me

Me, the quiet and shy but seemingly happy young woman

No one would suspect my grades to be down the drain either

But they are and I can't even bring myself to care

I don't think I'll make it to 18

Colleges will not care about a dead girls grades

Universities will not scrutinize my transcript through bifocals, set low on their on their noses

They won't even see it

Because I won't be around to submit any applications or transcripts

Three more years

That's a long time to be stuck deep inside your own hellish mind

That's a long time to be stuck in a claustrophobically small town

That's a long time to survive

But that's how long I've got to stay

I don't thnk I'll make it to 18

As it is, I can hardly survive it now

How much worse will it get?

Any worse and I'm as good as dead

Death by my own hand

The prospect should frighten me but I find it oddly comforting

It allows me to control Me for once

Rather than having my actions dictated by the deep set fear instilled inside of me by our modern society

For once in my life, at the end of my life, I will control Me