currently i feel like downing my 90 day supply of fluoxetine, the 30ish days of sleep meds i have left, all my moms pills, and the hydrocodone we have left, take a bath, and slice my skin till im nothing but cuts

andrew

solemn silence
sleeping
seeping through

rites of
solitude

rites of
sleepless nights

weeks of
isolated
self medication

rites of what

sick silent solitude seeping through

rites of silence
of solitude

rites of sickness
deep within

slowly i learn
to push away the thoughts
of blood and bleeding
or pills and puking
of starving and loose jeans
of tragedies to other people unseen

slowly i tell myself
ill be okay
maybe

slowly maybe
i learn to recover

drinking and drowning
slowly i fall back
maybe i cant

slowly maybe
im stuck after all

slowly i pull myself
back up
i learn to shower
and eat and sleep
and exist again

my body destroyed
more and more each time

slowly maybe
i learn to love scars
and stretch marks
and chub

cheerful faces fall
slowly maybe i fall
back

but
slowly maybe
i learn to survive

and it makes me so ******* sick that any sort of mild ******* inconvenience makes me wanna **** myself
but i guess that's just it
the only solution in this miserable life

arm the so-called enemy to
shove the war down citizens throats
throw the blame onto anyone but yourselves