This is an ode to Adderall,

that wonderful mixture of

dextroamphetamine sulfate

dextroamphetamine saccharate

amphetamine

aspartate monohydrate

and amphetamine sulfate capsules

that all combine together

to form a prescribable pill

questionably similar to the Schedule II controlled substance street drug

commonly refered to as "Speed."


This is an ode to the children

who are bundles of energy caged in a classroom

incapable of concentrating

on the miniscule tasks given to them

by pedagogical authorities that

promise societal success and economic happiness

to those who complete their work on time

without a fuss or a doubt as to why they're

filling in bubbles on paper in the first place.

The confused children who watch

as others with calmer brains

fixate eyes on textbooks

rather than out the window.


This is an ode to Society

deeming these individuals as broken

choosing to wound then medicate

rather than proliferate.

That took their inquisitiveness

and locked it in a book with the label "DISORDER"

stating that you will never be anything

unless you think and feel the same way we do.

And much like a mad doctor

lobotomizing those whom he thinks insane

they synthesized a pill

to dampen a torrential brilliance

allowing them to place their sedated children

back in the box where they belonged.


This is an ode to the college students

chained by academic standards

expected to excel towards great things

if only they reach that ethereal diploma.

The students who crave the artificial focus

the increased capacity for concentration

with the broadened spectrum of perception

the sense of purpose in the tedium

the ungodly ability to think clearly

and perform the meaningless tasks they expect of us.

The students who go through illegal means

to purchase said drug

to swallow or snort

and dive back into the mountain of responsibility

with a new found sense of productivity and motivation.

An ode to the students

unable to find purpose in studenthood

the ones who find more virtue in watching the sunset

burn clouds into firework oblivion

before then blessing us with uncritical night.

An ode to the students

who discover more education

in climbing to the top of a mountain

and yelling a nonsense decree of passion

just to watch the echo

bounce from shore to shore

in cathartic reverberation.

The ones

for which our pill

is the only possible manner

of assigning purpose to purposeless assignments.

These are the ones

who must binge

cram for days before

the big exams

going whole nights without sleep

or food.

The ones slowly cracking under the increasing pressure of academia

spending more time questioning why they must complete their homework

instead of actually completing it.


This is an ode to my brothers and sisters

who stand in horror at the mold we must fit into

crafted by an unknown unshakable entity.

The ones who lost the appeal of cookie-cutter success

in exchange for a small understanding

of the way things really work.

The cogs that twisted off the machine

and now sit lotus-posed in the corner.

My fellow birds with broken wings

still expected to fly.

My fellow carpenters expected to build their estates

yet not given the proper tools to do so.

The ones of cursed cold clarities

perfectly capable of clutching

those fifteen minutes of dynasty

yet refrain from doing so due to

the immaculate futility of it all.


This is an ode to a drug induced rant

that no one will read

the one that I chose to write

instead of doing my **** homework in the library

like a compliant student.


This is an ode to the pressure-oriented procrastinators

that delay and yet again delay

their petty necessary obligations due to purposeless and exhausted motivation.

Swallowing substances to summon some sort of incentive

to fill in the bubbles

and cater to the Society they find so confusing

the ones who only under influence of synthesized chemicals

find reason to squeeze into that culturebox

that cascades down a bumpy man-made conveyor belt

branding a diploma onto your forehead

injecting an occupation into your veins

transforming your pupils to dollar bill signs

demanding you breed children

to do the same as you have

and you'll never be happy unless you do these things

right?


This is an ode to those who reside in the shadows

of our broken social system

and conjure up great conversations

pertaining to everything and nothing

that are as wonderful and necessary

as the prints of your fingers

caressing down a comfortable torso

just before the sun rises

the untouchable indescribable realizations of life and love

that are completely irrelevant in their eyes

but are entirely necessary for our survival.


This is an ode to the overwhelming feeling of love

greatly exacerbated by a pharmaceutical delight

whereupon connections with other humans

become both incredibly appealing and oddly magnetic

for a few electric hours.

The oxygenating satisfaction felt

the instance just after the small talk architecture masks

fall to the floor

and right before we put them back on.


This is an ode to the minutes before the amphetamine crash

where the world still doesn't make sense

but we briefly don't mind

because a few fleeting moments of energy and purpose

in this otherwise detestable confine of reality

are all you can really ask for

as you complete the assignments

then step outside

to smoke yet another cigarette (they're absolutely wonderful on Adderall try it some time it'll **** you slowly but then again what won't?)

only to witness our Sun

breeding fire clouds in the east

illuminating the Western Abyss into purple-gold spectral oblivion

and in consequence therefore

between puffs of a necessary cigarette

you grin to yourself in quiet victory.


This is an ode to misaligned priorities

to those who when walking to everimportant final examinations

think not of the curriculum beaten into their skulls

but take careful measure to step on every crack on the sidewalk

who stare not towards the future

but to the beautiful reflection reflecting back from the broken mirrors

that are the weary days and weary ways

of this curious existence.

To those when stepping into the absurd spotlight of Society

unapologetically proclaim:


"Though I must play your game,

you will never win."

Excuse me Miss, the test results are back.
We’ve spoken to your family, and we are
Sad to say that you are numb.
You will start your treatment tomorrow.

I’m


                  So


                                   Sorry


I’ve been numb for some weeks now

It started at my toes

It nibbled on my legs

It flirted with my head

Slowly but surely tiptoeing in

Numbness is a silent killer

It plays nice and deceives you

Creeping through my body

Then it took my heart

For numbness is a backstabber

It is not what it seems

It uses other emotions to find you

It is covered by fear, for they are good friends

It hides under sadness’s billowing cloak.

And it is smuggled through the heart’s border by anger

But now it’s in my heart

For the soldiers have come out of the Trojan horse

They pillage and take

For numbness is greedy

They start at interests and the hobbies

It makes them seem boring and not worth while

See numbness is tactful, precise, and deadly

It plays with your mind, and slowly eats away at your heart

Hallowing it out, emptying you

Numbness is always hungry

And now I don’t know what I have left that it could take.






Do not worry, for this illness you have, this plague, it is not deadly

And while the treatment we have prepared for you will not change you back

Because once numbness steals, It does not give back easily

It taints your mind, and like wine on a white tablecloth

It does not fade easily

Numbness scars the mind

It leaves its signature with a heart

You will not be who you used to be

You will be faded version of yourself

And a talkative young girl like your self should not be worried

For those who come into our hospital as vibrant and colorful as you

Don’t fade as much as the quieter ones

See you were stronger than them

Your mind did not give up as easily as theirs

But we are treating you early

And you will be fixed, not to worry

Our results of this treatment are stellar

See you will not be fully put back together

Just a little shattered

Not as broken

Do not love

Do not be naïve

Do not let your heart deceive you

For we were not meant to feel such pain

Do not let your soul be taken

See they come

And take everything

Be strong

Do not love

Do not let them ravage you

Hide your emotions

Hide them in the dead of night

Do not let them get taken

Do not love

Do not play with the devil

Do not touch the fire

Do not let them take you like they took me

Do not let them scar you

Do not love darling, for we were not meant to feel such pain.

I have a visitor

She touches the glass and talks into the phone

Are you okay

Yes


I


Am


Fine

Just wondering, she smiles

And I’m smiling too

Because she can’t see this glass

Or this divide between us

And she can’t see the phone she’s talking into

If I let down my bars

Unlocked my chains

In the prison of my mind

Could you handle what would pour out

Would I still have visitors?

And would you still stand by me, if I escaped from my prison?

I hang up my phone.

And walk back to my cell.

And nobody notices.

Yes, this is the first time

I have finally passed

Drive freely

What is this option ma'am?

To be a donor?

Why yes, I would

You can give them everything

My heart

My blood

My mind

My soul

They could take them now if you like

I don't use them much anyway

and I'd prefer it this way.

Hello sir,

Yes, I am empty once again

I feel like something must be wrong with me

For I have come to your shop more than usual

It's quite unnerving to be honest

To be so empty

I barely made it here

Excuse me?

You don't have anything left?

I surely have not gone through everything

Please sir, there must be a mistake

For I was not meant to be this empty

Please check the system

Compute again

For I cannot be this empty

Forever.

The words I didn't say

Pounded

As I saw the couple walking in the park

on a windy October day

I do not approach them

She will cry over you

And you will hurt her

And It will not be like this all of the time

on a windy October day

He might not always laugh

And she might not always smile

And you might not always run after her

And grab her hand

on a windy October day

This might be the last time he will ever look at you like that

And this could be the last time

they are ever in love

on a windy October day.

You don't see it

Not at first at least

You might catch a glimmer of it

on a sunny day

I lay inside silently watching

Do not worry,

it's very comfortable

You see I can walk and talk and dance and sing

it is very flexible

do not try to save me

For its locks have closed

and it might as well be 6 feet under

But it has a beautiful cover

of a happy soul

but the cover slips

and you might catch a glimpse

of it when the wind blows

on a cold October night

Do not worry my dear

It might as well be 6 feet under.

I would like to file a report please Sir

Someone has ravaged my body

They have taken my innocence

Broken into my soul

Abused my mind

***** my conscience

Cracked my heart

Please sir, why aren't you arresting them

Is it not a crime

To steal someone's soul

Take their innocence

And leave them empty?

No, No I won't file a report

Thank you anyway sir

Have a nice day.