Transparent
Tight chest, hands cold as ice Thoughts scurrying through her mind Home to a family of schizophrenic mice "It can't be getting bad again" she thought Jolting upright, sheets stuck to her pale skeleton Hair matted to her freckled neck Blood boiling from within "You're just stressed" she thought Legs over the bed, still tripping through last nights rabbit hole Combing through a landmine labyrinth Of discarded clothing and old woes "You're just tired" she thought Lights flicker to show a ghost in the mirror, Transparent, translucent, transpicuous Deep, blank eyes stare into the reflection "Wait, who are you?" she choked Empty SnakPaks scatter the floors, dishes piled like Mile High City Expired milk in the refrigerator door, trash bags cluttered Reluctantly settling on yesterdays lukewarm Pepsi "It's getting bad again" she whispered Sinking back into the blacked out abyss Seconds, minutes, hours, days, and weeks Passing...