Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Dear Prozac,
Thank you for saving my life.
Maybe one day, I will be a good wife.
Ill witted me, now singing softly.
Dear Xanax,
Thank you, for now I can breath.
Too much, and I can’t talk .
Just enough, I can barely walk.
Dear Adderall,
My favorite of the bunch,
For you always keep me up.
Grinding you in a powder,
To feel your mighty ******!
Dear Vyvanse,
Always necessary and prescribed,
When you can never eat,
Who needs bulimia nervosa?
The daily calories are in my mimosa
Dear Ambient,
Thank you for the sleep.
All the others make me wide-eyed.
With you, I feel the day, complete.
No longer I will be, a zombie.
fun on puns
Because of you, everything I touch,
Bleeds and turns to dust
I want to **** you first,
Because a broken blade singes, feels good with a ******

Against my wrist.

Your German tongue, I can't bare
Not a single word without a snare
Your Aryan sly,
Your black gutted soul.

Go away, I say
Go away,

You come as swiftly as you stay,
You bruited, withered man
I tried to burry you in the sand
With the Pacific ocean, we found sacred

Ah, to crush your brittle skull with my fair hands

The empty vessel that lies,
My brother's fears, my mother's tears
My sister's sorrow
Her disposition that fallows

Go away, I say
Go away, you shadow of a man

Your skin is already cankered
Your hair thin and gray
Spitting tobacco out the window
Passing by your old church


Your God you hold so sacred,
Hates what he sees naked.
How ironic,
As you fill your stomach, with gin and tonics


Your only son,  drenched in your malice
His confused identity, at your callus
Your worst fear, your biggest secret
I see what you left behind, in his tender cries

Your drunk is merely a symptom.

My mother's wisdom
Trying to gather strength to circulate the essence
Of her household kingdom,
Yet, destroyed at the presence

You left her, pavement scratched.

Busted blood vessels, continuous contusions
Led to the comfort of capsules
Trying to mend the thrash
Laying in front of her children on the hard, wooden floors

You demon of destruction
With death in your demise,

How your lover's family feels
As you dragged her heals
Into her watery grave
For you, it's not a worry; you think your God will save

Now it is time.
Take your pride,
The evil you hide.
As your golden ticket to hell

Alas, you’re dead
No fragmented memories shrouding my brain
No more drugs, no more pain
FREE, of the demented ways

I am the murderer now
 Mar 2012 Caroline Stradley
mads
Fighting to get away from sleep,
suffocating,
I woke up.
Not quite together-
my mind wasn't sure what it was doing,
Only half aware of the blade that traced your initials on my wrists.

I stumbled
and roamed the house
staining the carpets with blood
eventually collapsing at the foot
of my parents bed, falling asleep once again.
When my Mother found me
she was scared and confused.

This dream was different to the re-occuring dream
i usually have.
Instead of watching the usual dream
of you taking your own life;
instead of seeing your face,
one i had known and loved my whole life,
morph into an unfamiliar being...
I had murdered you.
 Mar 2012 Caroline Stradley
mads
Young children skip stones on the lake.
The boys, they "accidently" fall in.
Mistakes are the best memories made.
Laughter fills the sweet summer air.
On their chubby cheeks
the sun dances
and they breathe in
the lucious smell of springs late blooming flowers.
Summer is finally here.
Handmade Lemonade stands scatter footpaths
and lemon peels litter the street.
Lemonade 5cents
Daisy chains rest on the older girls heads
as they tan in the sun.
And in ten years time, polaroids will fill their walls
Of this beautiful summer
in the town by the lake.
 Mar 2012 Caroline Stradley
mads
The worst part is,
I would actually do it.
I'd take the gun,
Just like she did,
And shoot myself
If I was given the chance.
I've always been uncertain
Of my future.
My minds always changing.
Anyone who knows me,
Would've known that.
No one knows me.
I'm scared.
I'm scared of change.
I'm scared of the future
And how I'll get from here
To there.
I'm scared of this world.
And I'm scared of me.
FICTIONAL
 Mar 2012 Caroline Stradley
mads
"Hello, Madeline. What have you come to share with me today?"

"Lately, I've been having these dreams, you see, and they've generally been about the same thing."

"Tell me what they're about."

"I'm always falling and hurting myself really bad, or getting lost and he always turns up to save me."

"How long has this been happening?"

"The past two weeks or so. It's quite literally sending me insane."

"Why's that?"

"Well, Doc, this morning, I was just sitting on my bed and suddenly I felt him wrap his arms around me like we'd never fallen apart. Only problem was, was that He wasn't there. It was just me."

"Hmm.."

"So, uh, Doc, can you tell me what's wrong with me?"

"You still love him."
Next page