Fear.

I see the blood on the floor
the bottles of prescription pills on the table
and fear grabs hold of my heart,
flows down my spine,
dragging it's cold fingers across my back,
as it slowly grips my throat.

Fear.
Fills the void
left by not knowing
where life is going.

Fear.
Drags a razor over soft flesh
carving ribbons
of crimson
mixed with white.

Fear
lifts a shaky hand
holding tiny white pills
dropping them one by one
into a mouth filled with tears.

Fear.

Each time I see my reflection.
Each time I open my mouth.
I feel fear.

I see
tangled hair,
chapped lips,
pale skin,
sunken eyes,
and I feel fear.

Because staring into the eyes of a killer
is terrifying.