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An older lady came to the pharmacy
To pick up her oxycodone twenties,
Her copay wasn't much money,
Double counted a hundred twenty
As close to me as you stand,
I explained her doctor prescribed Narcan.
In case of overdose, one spray up the nose
Can save yourself or someone else.
She twisted her face to me real funny,
And said "What do you take me for a druggie?"
She took the vial, left the spray
As I waved with a have a nice day.

She felt accused by me, in a huff,
Threw the pills up in her cabinet.
As fate would have it, her granddaughter
Came over and spotted the bottle with red cap.
Imagining the high if she could get that,
Imagining the euphoria as she stole that.
Sneaking off into the bathroom
Downing tap, she consumed a few.

Something wasn't right, her breath felt light,
Disoriented trying to read the label,
Hands shaking, feeling her body dive,
She saw the number twenty, thinking they were fives.
Unresponsive, her grandmother runs in
With the sound of a heavy crash,
She waits for paramedics who arrive at last.
Only to announce, nothing to be saved
Now she digs a grave for pride over a nasal spray.
Seline Mui May 2019
I stick my self in the microwave trapped in a sealed bag and set the time for twenty-four hours, seven days a week.
I count the seconds and wait to explode
But I don’t, instead I shrink with the bag and we shrivel up melting into one. The bag and me,
Cursing the desperation to get out becomes too real. I can’t deal with life on life’s terms. “**** God!”, I say to myself. I am the stick and he is the drum. All about me, I’m in control.
Obsessed with resentment, I hug my body and wait to die. The burning fumes fill my eyes, my ears and my nose. There is blood all over my body. Fourth degree burn seeps into my brain through my skull. I am sinking but
Was me who tightened the noose around my neck ; was me to throw the anchor to the bottom of lava’s abyss. For one split second a spark surges into my soul causing me feel alive and free. Small holes form through the bag growing at light speed. The toxic lava shooting out worry fear, and every loss until the bag is parched.
Still sealed in I claw at the holes with what’s left of my hand. Vanishing around me, they all seal up. In two seconds dark will suffocate me. No longer can I fight to stay alive.
I close my eyes and prepare to die
But when I open them I’m not inside anymore
Instead I’m outside the microwave back into my own body, flaws and all. I felt a powerful spirit pull me back to life just for today.
I will never forget the beat of the drum sound my name. I am the drum, God is the stick.
We beat as one. Together we walk the path, no longer just me,
Because God and I are meant to be.
Today in recovery .
Fullfreddo May 2015
our love making is an  
amphetamine

coming together,
crack ******* this stunning pleasure

wilding dreams,
mescaline pretense too real

daily life,
the modulation high of a flotation device,
some call it cannabis-like

gentle drowsy,
a glass of tea and
she...
Harsha Jun 2018
When I was younger I use to ponder
How I would one day prefer to flat line and expire
The most attracted option my forgone war bound mind could muster;  
Was in the event of a global nuclear holocaust
It brought me some well-deserved comfort due to the fact that
  As the residual fall out would inevitably eviscerate me
It shall also decimate everything I hate;
Second viable option was a similar scene straight out of Micheal Bay s Armageddon
Caught in the aftermath of a world killer; a horrific meteor shower
As it would undoubtedly bring about my decease and lay waste to this insufferable biosphere;
Thirdly my personal favourite choice to realize my own demise
Was through a carefully administered ****** overdose I surmise;
Induced in a state of perpetual ecstasy locked in a coma Comfortably numb,
making love then becoming one with oblivion
I think I prefer this choice in contrast to the first two selections
Mainly to avoid all that collateral damage that would directly result in the deaths of a few billion;
But mostly because been lucid awake and sober is an absolute nightmare
Been rooted to a state of utter obliviousness and intoxication are a welcoming pair
And I have reached the point of no return where I no longer care.
Katie Parsons Feb 2018
It started out with a small white pill
Into the mouth and down the throat
Who knew something so little could ****
The body dissipates into nostalgic rhythm

Down the throat into the mind
Fading into a darkness that can't be stopped
We dance with colors that make us blind
The brain sleeps while the body twitches

The empty orange bottle falls down
Tears follow as she sweats from the fear
She weeps in her pink and white gown
The stomach begins to turn and ache

The aches cause scratches on her skin
A pain only a fix will get rid of
Nothing can stop it, not even men
Her blood boils for her dealers rescue

Why does hydrocodone close your eyes?
Mama wake up.
The tabourine man knows you cannot die
All that was left was a body, and no soul.
Vivian g Jun 2017
A childhood friend took a handful of narcos at 11:30 in the morning
When I ask her why she tells me she just wants to feel o.k
I don't ask her anymore questions
At 12:30 we both hop in an Uber
Her eyes flutter open and closed
"Don't fall asleep"
words struggle to slip out of her tightly clenched jaw
"But it feels g..."
Our driver looks at me through the rearview mirror
She doesnt finish her sentence until we arrive at our destination
I shove her arm hard
"Good" she says, and forgets to close the car door behind her
"What am I supposed to do if you pass out?"
"I wont"
"Yes, you will"
"I won't I promise, I'm very awake"
1:05 I see her slumped over in her chair while getting her nails done
I try to shake her awake
The nail lady glances up at me from over her glasses
"She's fine" I tell her, "I'll be right back"
I ran home and didn't come back
I ran because I didn't want to be questioned
I ran because I didn't want to be responsible
I ran because I'd rather leave her there than take her home knowing her parents would tell my parents
That was the day I realized I was selfish
Michael Kreitman Nov 2015
I got sober over a year ago.
What god blessed me with is morals, honesty and a conscious.
When I was out, I hurt people and I enjoyed it.
It was something, I just had to do so you knew how big my rep was.
I was a caged animal and I wasn't even in cell anymore in my head at least.
Any challenge I met with violence.
I prayed most nights not to wake up.
I happened to have  a reminder this evening.
Tonight I picked up some food and sat at the bar.
Instead of salivating over sharp knives, semi automatics, a broken thumb and what I would do to certain fox news anchors.

First, I saw my old friend jack.
Before we reminisced I told him that, I'm allowed back in my mothers house.
And am home for the holidays especially thanksgiving.
I can hold a job instead of amassing monstrous amounts of credit card debt and fraudulent charges.
And my family tells me they love me.
Well he told me remember the good times, like trying to get hook up with someones girlfriend at a party.
while he was passed out.
 Saying anything that was needed to close the deal.
It just happened that night.
I was bamboozled
Also  I had the privilege of running into some *****-***** who had the gull to tell me.
You have the haircut of a ****.
Her words exactly.
So instead of keying some kind four letter feminine word into her car.
I fell down into the street divider and wouldn't get up till some acquaintances went out there and asked me if  I was alright.
"That of course, was all I most likely needed growing up" said so many counselors who loved to point out the fact that, well Michael you grew up in a broken home with a father who took his life right around the corner from you when you were just ten years old. The prime growing years of any young lad.

Then I spoke to an old college friend after that a noble of sorts C. Royal.
We spoke of past-times of unprotected *** with a so called girlfriends.
All of these women of course who I had cheated on and possibly fathered many children.
Now sober I'm following leads to see if they exist and planning to set up college funds.
If the maternal parent doesn't want me int there life.
Then later in life being the genius that I was cashing in so may bonds to celebrate my future sober life I began spending over 1500 at the tables.
OF course when I was banded from narcotics and ****** at the hotel room.
Whats the point of saving over 1200 in winnings.
Like any good addict I let it ride on black.

I just kept on running into old friends.
It was a hell of a night.
I then saw a french man of sorts and spoke to him last Mr. Marnier.
I told him for now at least  I don't regurgitate Thanksgiving dinners in front of friends families.
And my friends speak to me now.
After that I picked up the food and said goodbye.
I feel like life is based on truth. its like they say those who win the war write the history.
wraiths Jul 2015
i've never felt compelled to the idea
of being addicted, dependent on something.

but without even trying,
i've become physically attached to you.

toxins, narcotics, your grin;
what's the ******* difference?
Erali Pisce May 2015
I'm ****** up.
I'm drunk right now.
Isn't it hilarious?
The last time I was like this was two months ago.
Two months ago when I lost my "best" ******* friend.
Make it stop.
Save me from this stupid thing called love.
I'm incapable of true love.
Is it because of him, her, you, me?
I ask like it matters.
I ask like it ever mattered.
Ha, good one...
******* HOLD ME.
Don't touch me.
Come back to me.
Never leave.
She's gone.
It's my fault too.
Who cares though?
I don't because, well, I'm a ******* mess.
I feel nothing.
Nothing at all.
I don't exist.
I'm not dead.
I'm just nothingness.
I'm nothingness wishing for a drip.
An IV drip.
Drip from the Molly.
The drip from the X.
Numbness from the narcotics.
Kiss me.
Leave me.
I'll rock your world.
Then ask you to go.
I'm saving you.
I promise.
This was for me, not you.
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