Wish
you could turn off
the questions, turn
off the voices,
turn off all sound.

Yearn
to close out
the ugliness, close
out the filthiness,
close out all light.

Long
to cast away
yesterday, cast
away memory,
cast away all jeopardy.

Pray
you could somehow stop
the uncertainty, somehow
stop the loathing,
somehow stop the pain.

Act
on your impulse,
swallow the bottle,
cut a little deeper,
put the gun to your chest.

-From "Impulse" By: Ellen Hopkins
All rights to original writer and owner-