Something in me grew black over time,
darkened my insides.
It plagued my mind
and scourged my eyes
Until the lids closed over in the hope
of an endless night.
Hiding in the background of every laugh,
every cry, every thought that went awry
like ink spreading over white paper
until the darkness covers all its edges
and the paper, loose now
in its wetness, begins to
wear away.
I remember the tiles from the hospital
as my dad brought me in.
He had cried on the drive
and I could see in his eyes
his heartbreak.
My strength had dwindled
and I couldn’t stay awake.
My head bobbed as I lost consciousness.
There were tiles on the floor and ceiling
they were white in the sense that they had once been white
and time had taken over from there.
I was given a gown.
it was short sleeved so the doctor would see
All the cigarette burns on my arm.
She came in to hook me to the IV
and turned away,
Like you would if someone had just told you
of a tragedy.
I spent hours vomiting up the pills
forty half-digested pellets
foaming and fizzing in the toilet bowl.
My dad held my head back from falling
in between intervals
of putting his fingers down my throat.
I fell asleep to the sound of him crying.
Bio:
aóirshe O’Neill is a 19-year-old aspiring poet hailing from Co Mayo, Ireland. She is currently in her second year of her BA in Creative Writing at the National University of Ireland, Galway. Saoirshe writes poetry and fiction, often focusing on themes of existentialism, death, and depression. She has previously been published in the Vox Galvia section of the Galway Advertiser. You can read her writing online on her blog: www.anemicacademic.com.