At last she felt the courage to free herself,
The taps on running cold.
Pills and liquids sat by the sink,
Stirring a fatal toxin she then dared herself to drink.
Plunging one foot in, a shiver rippled her bones.
With both legs in the water, tears fell from her eyes.
Slowly she lowered her body into the bath and her sight was getting blurred.
Throwing pills aimlessly to the back of her throat she swallowed each one as fast as she could.
Tipping her head forwards, her fingertips touched her toes.
Gripping tightly she would not let go.
Forever more peace would flow through her.
Her head hit the bottom of the bath, her hands loosened grip.
No longer she suffered.
...This isn't really a poem, and whatever it is, it isn't good. But it just sort of came out. Whatever...
