Force feeding on two doses of clozapine.
Doc reclines in his chair;
I am restrained in mine.
"I am feeling fine, now,
feeling fine."
"It is time."
Doc persists," admit it for them...
you know what you did;
you know it was all real."
A film reel rewinds inside somewhere
adjacent to my cerebellum;
Front row seats to my favorite show-
I know not what to tell him?
It was all what I dreamt up on one of my.
Usual Sundays.
Savoring what lovely sensations-
'some' would insinuate are a sin.
It was me this time playing doctor,
operating on my imaginary friend.
This one pretends she does not like the licking
of a blade against her skin.
And when I decide to cut too deep
her safe word is always 'grin.'
But Doc: that was just how we liked to play?
She had been longing for a violent death:
I dreamt her up that way.
...
Before I could say what fun I had with the others.., teary-eyed on the other side of reinforced glass, resides my many made-up friend's mothers...
(Was it those two pills from before?)
In my final minutes ..
I have regained lucidity.
On death row for defiling those things
I thought only I could see.
A needle in my arm:
my death will serve as an apology.
...
I writhe, and before I black out, the lithe figure
of an old imaginary friend.. but if you WERE actually real..
A decade ago- I remember a incorporeal, corrupted, entity I allowed to fill my soul.
In place of the hole where apathy used to be.
The yearning for suicide was all mine;
Homicide was your wish-you resided within.
Broke my will and reality down day by day
by simply posing as my only friend.
Control/Desire imprisoned me.
Rewired my mind.
breaking me down into insanity.
but I am fighting now:
Thrashing with all the life left still inside of me.
She grins as I go.
musing to herself.
She takes me below.
" I had high hopes for this plaything...
my next toy is actually EAGER to **** "
...For someone who wanted to be dead,
you had such a hard time keeping still.
-
Feb 20, 2024
Feb 20, 2024 at 11:32 PM UTC
Force feeding on two doses of clozapine.
Doc reclines in his chair;
I am restrained in mine.
"I am feeling fine, now,
feeling fine."
"It is time."
Doc persists," admit it for them...
you know what you did;
you know it was all real."
A film reel rewinds inside somewhere
adjacent to my cerebellum;
Front row seats to my favorite show-
I know not what to tell him?
It was all what I dreamt up on one of my.
Usual Sundays.
Savoring what lovely sensations-
'some' would insinuate are a sin.
It was me this time playing doctor,
operating on my imaginary friend.
This one pretends she does not like the licking
of a blade against her skin.
And when I decide to cut too deep
her safe word is always 'grin.'
But Doc: that was just how we liked to play?
She had been longing for a violent death:
I dreamt her up that way.
...
Before I could say what fun I had with the others.., teary-eyed on the other side of reinforced glass, resides my many made-up friend's mothers...
(Was it those two pills from before?)
In my final minutes ..
I have regained lucidity.
On death row for defiling those things
I thought only I could see.
A needle in my arm:
my death will serve as an apology.
...
I writhe, and before I black out, the lithe figure
of an old imaginary friend.. but if you WERE actually real..
A decade ago- I remember a incorporeal, corrupted, entity I allowed to fill my soul.
In place of the hole where apathy used to be.
The yearning for suicide was all mine;
Homicide was your wish-you resided within.
Broke my will and reality down day by day
by simply posing as my only friend.
Control/Desire imprisoned me.
Rewired my mind.
breaking me down into insanity.
but I am fighting now:
Thrashing with all the life left still inside of me.
She grins as I go.
musing to herself.
She takes me below.
" I had high hopes for this plaything...
my next toy is actually EAGER to **** "
...For someone who wanted to be dead,
you had such a hard time keeping still.
-
A story of how the friendship between a man and his imaginary friend was simply that: a 'friend' imagined.
T/w suicide, ****** mental health
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