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Alison Shulman May 2016
my heart felt black and cold
so I took four little green pills to take the edge off my wandering mind
thoughts of wanting to die
but when those weren't enough I let one more dissolve under my tongue
because they say that gets into your bloodstream
they say that's how to really make it work
and suddenly I was floating into a white light
there was nothing around me
not even my thoughts
I guess I understand now why van ghoh ate the yellow paint
I guess I understand why people crash their cars into trees
and wrap them around poles
when your heart feels like it's rotting from the inside you you'll do anything to feel the light
Alison Shulman Mar 2016
I still remember the first time we met; you stepped off the train and into my arms and you hugged me so tight it took my breath away. you felt so safe, like hiding under the covers during a thunderstorm when you're six years old and the world is still too scary.
I remember the car ride home. my mom drove us and we both sat in the back seat but both of us were too afraid to reach the few inches across the middle seat to hold the others hand. it was filled with nervous glances and middle school giggles.
I remember our first kiss, awkward and fumbling because I wasn't quite sure how to do it yet. I remember you kissing my cheeks, my neck, my nose, my forehead before you would kiss my lips. when you finally did I felt it jolt through my entire body and I knew I wanted to kiss you for the rest of my life.
I remember the first night we spent together, you held me so close I could feel your heartbeat in my back while I fell asleep and I'm still searching for that feeling because it's the first place that's ever felt like home.
I remember the first time you touched me, your hands gently gliding on top of my skin, terrified to hurt me.
I remember when you told me to leave. it was clumsy and messy, things you told me I was too much of to love. I remember crying in your basement while you sat in, what was supposed to be, our bed, alone.
I remember the cross country flights to go back to my parents house and how badly I didn't want to return. the house that I've grown up in has never felt like home like you did.
I remember the months of suffering alone in a bed that we once shared wishing you could come back to it, but knowing that you never would.
it's been a year since I've been within a thousand miles of you and I think I'm finally finished searching for you in everything I do.
it's been a year since I've been within a thousand miles of you and I think I've finally stopped thinking of you as home.
Alison Shulman Mar 2016
I think I may be becoming a functioning drug addict
although I don't know if it's technically an addiction if the doctors still giving it to me, or that's what I say anyways because I don't want to admit to anyone that I might have a problem
because if I admit it they might take it away
and I don't want that

I know that sounds like something a drug addict would say but I don't really need them all that much, I just like them for when life gets hard
and I can't handle the world
and I don't feel like a person
they bring me back to normal

you decided to text me after we hadn't talked in 7 weeks 6 days 15 hours and 39 minutes and my heart sank to my stomach and I felt my breathing stop and I chewed up two tiny little pills because I needed to work and be a functioning person that day

when I finally responded you said you were just wondering how I'd been and even though I've been well before now all I could do was cry so I chewed up six more in an attempt to get you off my mind and I fell into a dreamy paradise where nothing was real, not even me

I had dinner with my grandma and as an appetizer I had two more tiny white pills so I could mask the face that would tell her how much I've been thinking about death
I think it worked

I wrote a note in my journal saying to only take 2 so when I couldn't sleep that's what I did but I found one in my bed and so I took that one too and I drifted off into nothingness without you rattling around my brain

I think I may be a functioning drug addict, but I'm not ready to tell anyone because I'm not ready to stop
Alison Shulman Mar 2016
I woke up at 4:12 am
I had six missed calls from you
and on the seventh call I finally picked up
and all you said was “I’m sorry I’m sorry”
over and over
until you hung up without giving me a chance to say a word

it’s the first time I’ve heard your voice in ten months and I don’t know what it means
but I know that I can’t breathe
I send you text after text after text
and you’re not answering
I’m calling you and calling you
and you’re not answering
until finally you tell me that you’re ready to die

I’m shaking now and I’m crying
and I can feel my dinner creeping back up my esophagus
ready to purge my body at any moment
and I don’t know what to do
how am I supposed to talk you down when I can’t even think
or breathe
the only thing I know how to do is tell you that I love you

I love you I love you I love you
I say it over and over
hoping you can feel how true it is through those three little words on a screen
and you’re telling me that you don’t want to be loved
but I don’t know what else to do
so I keep repeating it
I love you
Alison Shulman Mar 2016
lately I’ve been feeling like I live on another plane of existence. I have left my body and I’m watching over myself as I fail at being a functioning person. I take four hour naps every day and don’t wake up until noon and I’m left up at night screaming into the void that I exist because as much as I know that I am alive I don’t feel like I’m existing. or maybe I just don’t want to exist. maybe I’m tired of these day to day tribulations that come with being an adult, maybe I want to exist as a child forever when everything is bright and new and nothing hurts except bruised elbows and scraped knees. maybe I’m being nostalgic for a place that I don’t even know exists. maybe I lost my innocence too early to know what being a child feels like. maybe I lost myself too early to know what being a person feels like.
Alison Shulman Mar 2016
I'm afraid that the next person I kiss will leave the taste of you in the back of my mouth. the next person who touches me will just be tracing the lines and patterns that you've already created, everything will be tainted by you. no person will ever be you. I will never experience you again and every person who comes and goes will just be a reminder of that. you've set a standard that I don't know anyone else can reach, the feeling of electricity flowing through my veins as you touch me and the fire in my stomach when you kiss me, I'm afraid I'll never have that again. I'm afraid that because of you, everyone else will taste bitter and ruined.

— The End —