"You'll be free child, once you are dead."

I haven't eaten anything but pills all day and somehow I'm still okay. I tried to drown myself in warm bathwater and it sparked a thought. About how I almost drowned when I was young. I sank to the bottom and didn't come up. No one noticed, no one but another little boy. I heard him scream, but I couldn't move. And then I got pulled up. I wasn't conscious, I remember. Maybe I was, but they couldn't tell. It was then that I realized it would be a long time before I found someone who could care. I don't want all eyes on me, I just want someone to know I'm there. I'm hard to talk to. I take pills. I slip under water. I occasionally try to die. I know you mind, that's why you're not what I'm looking for. I want a glance when I do that, not a panic attack. I want a hand when I fall, not a gurney to wheel me away. The drugs don't bother me at all. You're quiet all the time just like me. We'll let the poets cry themselves to sleep and then we'll be unwell together. My ideas aren't that good, but they'll do until I get better ones. All I want is you to stick.