We hate the pills the we're prescribed,
But love the ones that get us high.

Feeling...
Ceiling...
Crush another can,
Something wonderful!
Wasted now,
Broken house...

Yeah...

Defeat,
Concrete...
Take another hit,
And it's all complete,
Just **** me,
Oh,  **** me...

Yeah...

Can't you see?
It's my creed,
Blood red seas,
So permanently!
And this is me!
Oh, this is me...

Yeah...

Sunlight,
So bright,
I think about a day,
I've never had my rights!
I'm Equal,
And Unequal...

Yeah...

Shadow ball!
Oh,  shadow ball,
Tell me why I never
Had faith at all!
Just let me sleep,
Oh, let me sleep,

Yeah...

Oh, Hashish,
And *****,
I can't imagine when
I've ever felt so numb!
Just guide me,
And hide me...

Yeah...

It's something new,
And something *******,
A form of happiness
I never thought I'd brew,
But still, I knew,
Oh, I knew...

Yeah...

Shadow ball,
Oh, shadow ball,
Tell me why I never
Had faith at all!
Just let me feel,
And leave me be...

Yeah...

I am sitting in a chair
Or at least I think I am siting
In a classroom
Studying computer science
Bored
Frustrated
Sad
And angry
I realize this I am dead
Dead because of the class
The boring class killed me
I am still able to speak but that is it.
No fancy lights
No pearly gates
Just a trip
To the morgue
There I am prepped for autopsy
The ME makes the first y incision
And open me up.
“ if you are looking for the cause of death
It was the lousy class my mom made me take!!!”
I cry this to the ME
But she doesn’t care
And continues on with the autopsy
I am at this point crying
I cry for my mother to and help me
As the ME weighs and dissects each of my organs
I cry
“You idiot I died of extreme stress caused by the class....
I had a heart attack! Please leave”
I scream
I yell
But I am  dead.
Then after the autopsy
I seeing the fancy lights
And cross over
While my parents claim my corpse.

I’m worried that there’s something more than just depression and ADHD
I think I’m bipolar
But whoa hold up did a doctor tell me this
No
Oh so it’s not true
I have to wait for some high and mighty doctor to tell me what’s going on in MY OWN BRAIN
That totally makes sense
So I’ll go and get a doctor to tell me what I already know
Then I’m bipolar
That makes sense

Cloudy;
my world is
hazy
tound the edges.

I’m walking with a
vignette filter
on my eyes,
like glasses I can’t remove.

But I’m sober,
I think.
I’ve been high, yes,
most days;
but not today.
I’ve drunk, yes,
always too much;
always ending in aches and
some sorrow;
but that was last night;
not today.

I already know that tomorrow’s
forecast is cloudy
too.

"Everyone wants to be a little anorexic" she says

"You know, like, in a glamorous way, like fashion friendly anorexic"

I bite my cheek and nod, pretend to agree

All I can think of is waking up to stars dancing on the ceiling

Pale skin with bruises of unknown origins

And battered feet on and off the scale

Almonds in Ziploc baggies

Bite marks on fingers

Hair down the drain

Measuring crunches by the marks they leave on your spine

And battered feet on and off the scale

Enough water to turn organs into boats

Eating an apple with a fork and knife

Desperate hands grasping for ribs

And battered feet on and off the scale

Standing and the world going dark

Coughing around shots of apple cider vinegar

Carrying an emergency rice cake for weak spells

And battered feet on and off the scale

Enough green tea to drown organs

Sugar free gum to mask the smell of decaying organs

Whatever nail polish covers yellow and purple

And battered feet on and off the scale

How many calories are in toothpaste

Thinspo blogs

Pillows squeezed between thighs

And battered feet on and off the scale

Is today the day my heart gives out

Waking every day in a new body

Fingers clasped around wrists

And battered feet on and off the scale

Notebooks filled with numbers

Purple crescents under eyes

Fingers clasped around forearms

And battered feet on and off the scale

Elbows knocking into hipbones

Being scared of your own reflection

Lies to get out of dinner

And battered feet on and off the scale

The stench of *****

Oxygen that tastes of Splenda

Fingers clasped around biceps

And bleeding feet on and off the scale

 

If this is your idea of glamour

Then you can have it

You may walk in the same storm with another, Under the same sky feeling the same rain but that doesn't mean you've endured their pain.

    Before you assume that you're above them, Consider the lightening when it does strike...
that it doesn't consider one's mere stature or height.
~Author Ven J. Arnold
(SacredInkedBlood)
copyright 2018 Ven Jencie Clifton Arnold