every last breath tastes so sweet.

5/19/10. not about much in particular, this time.

thin red marks are on her hips,
like kisses from a familiar lover.
she's so sick, so sick of everything.
life is moving
much
too
fast
and she can't catch her breath.
her head swims, struggling to
not drown in the  headlights
of oncoming traffic,
of the rapid montage of events
plaguing her life.
precious little baby,
eighteen years old.
breaths away from graduation.
and what does she have to show for it?
one too many pills and
bruises covering her body.
not quite sure where she gets them,
but she has plenty of ideas.
something about being fucked against
the side of her bed,
trying to feel anything besides panic.
or maybe from falling down,
scrapes on her hands from where
no one would catch her.
down
she
goes,
with nothing but bruised knees
and ripped hemlines.
but it's not the end of the world.
oh no, this is just the beginning.
the anticipation of what's to come
is just a guillotine swinging above her jugular.
she just can't let go of everything.
of anything.
so in the meantime she fights off demons
and ghosts,
petty b*****s
and homewrecking w****s,
sabotage and
mutiny.
she'll keep her head above water;
every last breath tastes so sweet.