Am I?

By: Sherry Lynn Anderson

I don’t know what to write,
I have nothing on my mind.
Sitting by myself again,
Thinking thoughts unkind.

The time is 9:11,
And the air is thick and damp.
Waiting for the street lights to dim,
Waiting on the corner like a tramp.

Hot steamy needle,
Penetrating the skin.
Thoughts screen my mind,
And I’m doing it again.

Sitting by myself,
Thinking unlikely suicidal tendencies in my head.
Looking around unconsciously,
Wondering… “Am I dead?”