Speed demons.
They wait for me under my bed and whisper my name into the night.
They sink vampire teeth between my eyes,
inject awful toxins that make my mind throb,
pulsing pain like a second heartbeat.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
I battle.
I ignore.
I cry alone into the night.
I clutch my sweat-stained sheets,
trying to grasp reality as vivid hallucinations of another dimension
dance across my vision, a world of
*** drugs, and rock and roll.
It’s sexual. It’s sensual.
It’s perfection, my forbidden fruit,
tempting, red, succulent, delicious,
rocks my body like an untamed sea,
unties the ropes of blue that pin my brain to D
O
W
N
and let me run free.
P.
Free. Running Free. Flying High. So Far U
I can barely breathe, my heart is racing
And this is only memories.
My head flutters at the idea of flying again.
And I ache and I pine the touch that only speed can give me,
a high that takes me to heaven on earth.
But still I battle. I battle for my friends.
They cry, they get upset.
They tell me I’ve changed,
riding an emotional rollercoaster straight to hell
to blow lines with the big man in red.
They see a demon inside my sunken face. They just want me.
To own me.
To own my body.
Once Again.
They plea, they want to help.
Call, text, show up, knock at my door.
We will tend to your broken baby bird body.
My body is breaking.
I am frail. I am small. I am hollow.
I am cold, all the time. My kidneys ache, my head screams,
my weight disappears faster than I can choke down bites of mediocre sandwiches.
I am tired. I am sad. I hole up in my bed for hours
drowsily listening to the sweet sultry voices under my bed.
But I fight. I say no. I cry. And I yearn.
I never stop wanting those ******* pills.
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 2:37 AM UTC
Speed demons.
They wait for me under my bed and whisper my name into the night.
They sink vampire teeth between my eyes,
inject awful toxins that make my mind throb,
pulsing pain like a second heartbeat.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
I battle.
I ignore.
I cry alone into the night.
I clutch my sweat-stained sheets,
trying to grasp reality as vivid hallucinations of another dimension
dance across my vision, a world of
*** drugs, and rock and roll.
It’s sexual. It’s sensual.
It’s perfection, my forbidden fruit,
tempting, red, succulent, delicious,
rocks my body like an untamed sea,
unties the ropes of blue that pin my brain to D
O
W
N
and let me run free.
P.
Free. Running Free. Flying High. So Far U
I can barely breathe, my heart is racing
And this is only memories.
My head flutters at the idea of flying again.
And I ache and I pine the touch that only speed can give me,
a high that takes me to heaven on earth.
But still I battle. I battle for my friends.
They cry, they get upset.
They tell me I’ve changed,
riding an emotional rollercoaster straight to hell
to blow lines with the big man in red.
They see a demon inside my sunken face. They just want me.
To own me.
To own my body.
Once Again.
They plea, they want to help.
Call, text, show up, knock at my door.
We will tend to your broken baby bird body.
My body is breaking.
I am frail. I am small. I am hollow.
I am cold, all the time. My kidneys ache, my head screams,
my weight disappears faster than I can choke down bites of mediocre sandwiches.
I am tired. I am sad. I hole up in my bed for hours
drowsily listening to the sweet sultry voices under my bed.
But I fight. I say no. I cry. And I yearn.
I never stop wanting those ******* pills.
