162

162.

The number that didn’t end up killing me,

even though I hoped it would.

A mixture of 8 different kinds of pills

and 7 hours laying on the cold bathroom floor,

I was still here,

despite the improbability.

6 long minutes spent in the ambulance,

and 5 questions that I didn’t know the answer to.

My brain wasn’t damaged,

at least, not more than it was beforehand.

It took me only 4 minutes to down the pills,

and 3 of those should have been trying to stop myself,

but I didn’t stop,

even though I wanted to.

2 days in the ICU,

and 1 week in the mental hospital.

Zero time to think about what will happen now.

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