1 pill. 2 pills. 3. 4. I just keep swallowing them until it starts to feel like I'm taking thick gulps of the past. Those nights when I would cry and scratch to get out. I'd plead that I might evaporate under the burning cast of moonlight on my pale skin. Night after Night. I'm ashamed to say that I miss those dismal days...

 Your mind starts to make things up. Did I leave that there? Did I say that already? Bugs in the corner of my eyes. I'd like to leave earth for awhile, and come back when everything is a little more green. Like just before a rain storm. If I could skip the days in between the rain, I think I'd have a happy life.

 I'd watch the clouds just before they start to pour. I'd watch them mix and mingle in the atmosphere. Like an angry toddler getting ready to scream. A cat about to pounce. A tear ready to descend . I'll watch until I feel the first fat drop fall onto my face. When it does, I'll close my eyes so tight and fall to the asphalt ground writhing in pain - it has burnt me, wounded me, left me here dead. But only it hasn't. Rain doesn't hurt.

I've found myself under the moon again. 1 pill, 2 pills, I know I've already faced the worst, but how many more can I take until...