She thinks about cutting. She simply cannot stop. She has a razor in the drawer next to her bed. The drawer has pills in it. The drawer and its downstairs cousin have eight bottles of pills in them. She spreads them out. She empties them one by one. Seroquel. Lamotragine. Olanzapine. Lithium. There is enough lithium to kill oneself,oh the possibilities! Ativan, abilify, seroquel squared.
She takes a photo of the rumples in her sheets.
She is scared. She packs up.
The trees make the room look like the tropics. I swear I heard a helicopter.
There is rosé' in the fridge. I'll have it while I shower. I'm waiting for the doc to call me back. I don't know where I am. I mean she. She doesn't know where I am.

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