Rest

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Eyes crusted with tears, having
Dried on her face overnight.
Brain slamming against her skull,
The price she pays for the previous day's binge.
The scent of a lost lover,
On a pillowcase she never dared to wash.
Chapped lips resulting from the cold she exposed herself to,
Trying to find better air to breathe.
Matted hair tangled around its tie,
Avolition preventing her from washing it.
Body aching,
Exhausted from its struggle to continue thriving.

All this discomfort,
Yet she is willing to inflict more.
Rising from the sheets,
She reaches out for her only friend.
Sleeves up, arm extended,
A red river begins to leak.
It flows down a silky hill,
Sliding through the valleys between her fingers.
A second maroon river dribbles,
Racing down its own peach-colored hill.

For the first time in years,
She smiles weakly.
The blood has ceased to throb in her head,
Veins and arteries no longer pressing against bone.
The throbbing shifts from head to arms,
A much more manageable pain.
She smiles because she has dominance now,
Only she can control where it hurts.
Leaping into a self-made pit
Of emotional numbness,
She can finally rest.

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