I don't know when I became so dependent on the pills,
I think it was after the third or forth move,
When I was chasing away nightmares that kept coming true.
It started as just a way to sleep,
I was tired constantly,
And my body constantly pleaded for sleep,
The pills gave me that peace.
My life has never been simple,
I never just had a place to live,
Just had two normal parents,
A few siblings,
I never lived a good life,
It used to really bother me,
But for a moment when I swallowed the pills,
I forgot,
It was the only feeling I never fault,
It's not an addiction,
It's a way of life,
Just pass me the oxy,
I'll be alright.

All those who fought with silence,
Used their words instead of violence,
Tattooed scriptures upon their thighs
Battled the lows with ballpoint highs,
Burn away the fracture pieces,
Iron on the tainted creases,
This purging was our way of survival,
Poet's own parables a secondhand bible,
This was love, this was hate, this was rage,
This was anything we could confess in midnight haze,
Dream out loud all you silent eyed fiends,
For this was nothing but the fuel of the machine

“As for Charles – he likes girls. If he’s drunk, I’ll do. But – just when I’ve managed to harden my heart, he’ll turn around and be so sweet. “
“You like him a lot, don’t you?”

The night crumbles to dust as I trace
every single crease, every nook, every edge of you.
I drink you in, you drink cheap wine:
you only kiss me with alcohol in your blood,
you cannot stomach me without
the drugs.
A pile of cigarette ash on the floor,
broken glass. Shattered ice cubes and
cigarette butts.
It’s a scene of decay; you and I
could only survive if you whispered
sweet nothings and I let you gut
me. You lead me on and I always
slip, and touch you and believe
this time will be the time you stay,
this time will be the time you remember last night
morning come,
this time will be the time
I
am
the
one.
It rains the first time and there’s a bottle
of scotch; we play cards; you’re drunk:
I strip you off; tonight you smile; tonight
you will not mind if I touch
your jaw
your lips
your waist
and below
and your heart
no – never your heart.
Then it’s a matter of time.
You always come when you need me and I
can never refuse to be the one
who lets your tongue
explore my mouth
if only drunk
if only for a while
if only for the night.
I’m there. I will do. For now.
I kiss
your lips
your throat
your neck
your collarbones
and down – way down – below
and your heart
no – never your hear.
You twist me round your little finger and I
would die and die and **** and die
a thousand times
to have you look at me and say
I’ll stay tonight*.
My Charles.
No – never mine.

When did it stop? Did you stop loving me when I couldn't speak cause my throat was so tight from screaming in my dreams? Did you stop caring when I threw the sheets over my head because I didnt want you to see me crying? Did you stop loving me when I talked about my past and my future? Did you'd wish I'd just shut up? Did you still love me when you held my head in your hands and kissed my forehead and said "this love will never end"? Did you still love me when you showed up with messy hair and flowers in your hand? What about that time we walked through the park with our fingers intertwined and you said "although the sky is grey, the color in your mind colors the whole sky"? When did you stop loving me? When I couldn't get out of bed in the morning because love just wasn't enough strength to keep going? Was it when you left for a vacation with your parents cause they wanted you to think about your future? Was it because maybe I wasn't apart of that future? You said till the end. I didnt know that the end was a month ago, I thought the end was when I was dead. But now im barely breathing, so I might as well just be on my death bed. When did it stop?