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B Young May 2016
Pocket full of clacking around benzodiazepines
Xanax, Klonopin, and ******.
Am I late for class? Am I late for work?
Am I late for my own life? (truth)  
Is this really any normal kind of respite or relaxation?
Chemistry really has come a long way to introduce
us to induced relaxation(?) pills.
My Mr. Dr. says it should help with my anxiety,
but it only seems to cloud me in my depravity:
I steal, I lie, and I wake up naked in unknown
bedrooms in unknown cities with unknown
women. Who…did they steal my wallet?
And where the **** are my car keys?
Better yet, where in Allah’s name is my car?
OH! Lord Jesus Christ OH! God of the Jews I cry out,
Forgive me (lie) for I hath sinned.

I suddenly want to do every drug (truth)
ever made, you name it, I’ll try it,
just this once, of course. I don’t have an
addictive personality (lie)
The Dr. says it is OK if I take 4mg of Xanax a day (truth),
hence it must be safe (lie), right?  A Dr. can’t lie, can he?
Wait! Where am I again? And, what are we doing here?

Oh…that’s right, we are kids going nowhere (truth), how
silly of me to forget. If this is Prozac Nation,
then I am the ****** State. My governor is the late
William Burroughs (lie) and my deputy is the late Kurt Cobain (lie).
We are not in this for the fame (lie), a state run by the deceased.
So, how dare you point a finger at me in blame.
This is Drug Nation, America-home of the sedated and land of the overdose.
Ylang Ylang Mar 2018
Benzodiazepines corrode my gums,
Grey fills my veins.
From a dull journey
I'm coming back
to the House of Alive.

Thought it was a good idea,
Never been so wrong, my dear.
Benzodiazepines corrode my gums,
Days filled with scattered drums.

Benzodiazepines corrode my gums-
-Days filled with scattered drums.
V  Oct 2015
To be sick...
V Oct 2015
Clonazepam, Lorazepam, Diazepam, Alprazolam, if you've been acquainted with benzodiazepines,
Then you will know the hassle that I hearby mean.
Names so crazy it's like they fit your mind,
Yet without them they can be so unkind.

Clonazepam, Lorazepam, Diazepam, Alprazolam,
Tiny little pills, oh how you can truly and seriously help me to heal!
Yet, you make us happy as we should be without you to feel,
Because I'd rather remember you as an old friend who was there for a while to keep me "still".

Clonazepam Lorazepam, Diazepam, Alprazolam...
I know it's hard to say goodbye,
So for now I'll just say "goodnight",
And maybe one day I'll see without you-
the true happiness of daylight.*


I hate the consistent need to feel "normal" with any medication. It such a pain when you go through deadly withdrawls too. :(
Katarina Arno  Aug 2015
Sideways
Katarina Arno Aug 2015
I tick and I tock, just slightly lost
And I drink scarlet wine not for the taste, no
To silence the beats in my depth
Stop the dripping, the pain
The haze, the glamour of being a mess
The cork, the bottle just the right shape
Slick, slide it up slowly
High thing glass, sweet smell
Pretend you are something else
Wrong time zone, benzodiazepines
Plath's verses, your truths, your dares
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
mein shatten, o mein shatten -
wenn nur du haben aber eins auge,
zu einsehen mich, ihr σίσυφος.

my shadow, o my shadow -
if only you had but one eye,
to observe me, your sisyphus.

and are there no better contrasts to
be observed?

well, there is the title:
to spectate rain, falling in sunlight,
with the two rainbow arches
emerging from thin air...

of the inner 7 fractions,
to the outer 2, if not 3 (red and green
being the most distinct) -

to watch rain, fall in sunlight,
is like watching countless shooting stars...

but there is an even greater swelling
of the heart, as the eyes observe...
snow, falling ever so gently in the night,
and, if abiding near a cemetery,
how much more potent the scene.

i am the vain carrier of my shadow,
if only my shadow could see,
but then again, the shadow is burdened
with memory,
   for the shadow remains
chronologically bound to allow such
intactness of lived to forgotten
of scenes, acts, pains & pleasures.

and thus unto spoiling this "effort":
       sheikh imran nazar hosein -
honest to god, i could listen to the old
man for hours, and never feel
bored, or, to say the least, "triggered"...
there's absolutely nothing annoying
about him, but more importantly:
nothing arrogant, thus subsequently
pompous...

   it's just that he fails to mention
one aspect of western secularisation
process...
       the west has priests,
although, the priesthood has changed
into:
  the modern priest in western societies
is a: psychiatrist.
  these are the new priests,
they too prescribe certain "atonements"...
perhaps not the 20 hail mary's after
confession...
   short & sweet alternative:
     an antidepressant with your coffee,
or some benzodiazepines...
honestly? i'd prefer the wafer and
the sip of wine... but you know,
times are a'changing.

nonetheless, i prefer listening to old men
talk, such as sheikh imran nazar hosein,
because they *can
talk,
rather than slobber all over the camera
screen...
  and the way they talk, is akin to, say,
morgan freeman becoming a d.j.
on a classical music radio station
at 9p.m., through to 11p.m. so that
people hear the lullaby...

      yes yes, i know the subject matters of
the sheikh are religious,
but i too share my worth in some form
of religiosity, some form of gesticulation,
as merely as the one already given,
with the rain in the sunlight,
                and the snow in the night,
even with the freshly poured rain in
the night, that looks like quicksilver
every time it glistens,
   or like the frost on the pavement in
the night: that resembles a thousand upon
thousand of paparazzi camera flashes
at a red carpet event -

                                    veni vidi noto;
now for the alternative title (in german) -
      regen in sonnenlicht / schnee in nacht.

p.s. i write german using an english
grammatical structure,
   bare with me, i just like the way
it sounds... even if it has an english grammatical
structure... and if only they began to teach
german in english primary schools,
rather than french, i guess it would have
             caught on with me -
twice the man, and a fraction of a wannabe.
m  Jan 2018
;prose 2
m Jan 2018
there is something so tragic about a blank face and a ***** mirror. about 3 a.m eyes and our own fingers, mapping the parts of us we hate. there is something so damaging about resurfacing old ideas while juggling target practice with the wooden box kept bundled under piles of wrinkled clothes, stowed away in our dressers like safes, holding sharp things we would never touch on other days.

how can one relearn the idea of sleep?

because melatonin only worked once and benzodiazepines only kept us asleep long enough to dream about the bad things we avoided falling asleep for.

3 a.m feels like dry eyes and grown-out nails, bitten down until brittle. 3 a.m feels like a bed we are too afraid to crawl into and our own eyes we are too afraid to stare at. 3 a.m feels like a cold, creaking tiled floor, muffled from our fragile steps we took over it.

3 a.m feels like fear and sounds like the repeated notion of grinding teeth instead destroyed skin.

i keep studying the stain on the ceiling as though it were a separate universe. I keep willing it to take me away. outside, it's raining, without leaving a sound or smell behind, just flooded window wells and a distant ringing in my ears.

& praying used to be words i sung inside my head as though they could sing me towards some kind of promised refuge, but they never offered me anything except more of what i was already left with -

fear, constant fear, that things don't change, they just reshape themselves into shadows, into 3 a.m night lights and closed mouths that never stopped trembling.
someone teach me how to sleep
Constantine  Feb 2021
dxm
Constantine Feb 2021
dxm
i dont know you and you dont know me
but we can make this small room feel so serene
taking x and benzodiazepines
our brains melt away with so much ease

your not the one for me as i am not the one for you
but tonight we can make it feel like eternity in this room
Alexa  Aug 2020
Nightlight
Alexa Aug 2020
There are a few things I have by my bed at night except for a nightlight
Benzodiazepines, amphetamines, antidepressants, and a crafting knife
It might sound a bit ****** up, but sweetheart, that’s the story of my life
To stay alive I sold my soul and paid a high price
~ A.S 02.05.20 ~
Nellie 55 Mar 2020
I woke up with some xanax. Realized I've got some more to text. What's next? I don't know, I'm already anxious asf time to go. Make my feels glow. Rightfully no. I just want to end it, this isn't healthy. What do you mean y'all care about me. I hate me. Zoloft, benzodiazepines, melatonin, SSRI's got me begging for a stronger dose what a surprise. Give me my bottle, bout to make me sleep see you tomorrow. I can't blame anyone else but myself. Struggling to stop but at the same time it's not helping. But atleast it's something. Hush Nellie stop talking. Swallow a depressant and stay silent. Nobody has to know. What can they even do? If they knew? What they're gonna hold you? Yeah right, no ones stuck around to watch you stick up and fight. You're close to losing life. Pill the trigger and commit to the pillshot.
Part three.....

— The End —