the drawing board

i used the wall for a drawing board
scratched my pen across the paper i held
shaking ink
and shaking hands.
scribbled,
scuffed shoes a pattern
on the gravel of the bus station.
bought my favourite book
in the name of charity
thought,
do i want to live?
i replied,
unlikely.
reached the border
between home and hiraeth
and knew this side was colder.
i loved my sister,
but she did not know me
even then that we were older.
that day,
argued with a man
skilled in psychiatry
and strolled the castle grounds
and the city streets
handed in the pills, said
these are not for me.
should have sold them
to kids with less problems than money.
like me.
those days i didn't eat.
she left me in her grey student room,
went out to greet the night
with a party dress
our mother's children seem to favour.
i attacked the jack daniels
with the usual vigour.
and then my pale, pale skin
with a concealed razor.

Author's Note

emo?