So, I felt like writing, [2]...

She laughed and played,
hid in the charade.
Nothing was okay,
but did she tell me?
No.

Her skin was porcelain pale, finer than any doll's.
We thought it was from beauty, not from ignoring the addictive calls.
Her hair was thick and strong,
but not for long.
She was always my friend, someone you could count on,
but that didn't last either.
We fought her drug related battle, thinking we had won,
only to realize the war we had begun.
Nothing would stop her, she said.
She wanted to do something with her life, make herself something more, thinking she could accomplish that with illegal things galore.
Nothing could stop her,
she said,
as she lay in the hospital bed.
She wanted to be something more.