What It Is

The pill bottle sits there, calling to me, tempting me, telling me that all will be well if only I heed to its siren call.

Distractedly I run my fingers through my tangled hair; not really noticing its unkempt condition; such things are beyond me now.

My eyes are wet with stinging tears of grief and desperation; I know that this is the end; it’s just not how I expected things to be.

The pill bottle calls to me again; the temptation louder now, drowning out rational thought, drowning out everything.

I look at the piece of paper in front of me; the words upon it smudged and meaningless.  Is this what my life will boil down to?

The pill bottle almost screams at me; offering me an end to this torment; to the hell that is my life.

Finally I give in, and accept its resolution.