How many days have you spent, and how many days has it been? How many days have you went, without eating, focusing on breathing, trying to make this make sense?
How many pill bottles did you sink, and how many bottles did you drink? How many hours did you think, about the ending, wrote a message without sending, looking at the bottom standing on the brink?
How many times have you heard, that what you are doing’s absurd? Opening your mouth without forming words, addicted to addiction, an addict who is itchin, listening to the voices who are constantly stirred.
How many pills does it take, until your body finally breaks? How do you get rid of the shakes? Constantly feeling, but never dealing, hopefully you’re here to see the daybreak.
Death holds her hand Cowering in the corner of her room Greeted by the familiar face She welcomes him with open arms Whipping away her tears His cold embrace engulfs her Arms wrapped around her body As the flames of her anger are extinguished His grasp slicing into her like glass Serpent coiled around his prey Unable to flinch She gives in to death And the fight for her last breath has ceased
vicodin is a long term friend with a warrent for my liver and my life.
1:43am we had an appointment and god only knows i could never be late for such a chalky sense of closure.
and the young paramedic who burst my vein and scolded me could only pray his words meant more than the hum of streetlights as my body exchanged existence for the embodiment of thought and a brittle concept of my phrenic nerve
which was never more at peace than when my lungs remembered the luxury of standstill traffic
of weighted morals
of crushing insecurity's release and the resulted ballooning as squashed egos cry, and the garage door screams as it's yanked open
horrid sounds and tortured motion on both accounts
spiritual cataracts torn free commercialized visions now blur
as the orange bottle morphs from vicodin to paracetamol
equalized views in my bloodstream as the sheet metal ceiling shifts to plaster tiles
to a TV set
to a bathroom mirror
to an agonized woman next door
to the back windows where my mother cries where no one but the whole world can watch
to a blue plastic mattress and a first floor window covered with bars
to a pale green day room with a caged TV where there was bleach in the stomach of a nine year old
where the dying took their resurrecting breath between games of spoons
where the hinges screamed and blood pressure was taken three times a day
Cigarette lungs And poisoned guts I have a rotten brain Riddled with curdled spots
I ****** down fistfuls Of pills from six separate bottles I can’t nurture any self love But I find loathing inside to cradle and coddle
Scarred skin And rampant decay I am an animated corpse A macabre, dancing display
In the ICU for three days Tachycardia and shakes Jellied my legs into Disobedient writhing snakes
Cobweb chest And festering heart I pucker and ooze Sickly sour and ****
Hospital hallucinations On the sink sat a friendly bird It shifted from form to form Singing beautiful songs no one else heard
I tried to **** myself by overdosing on various medications December 28th. I haven’t been able to write anything worthwhile since, but I still wanted to share something anyway since I’ve been away at the hospital for so long. It feels good to be out and to be making progress. I will keep writing until I can create something of value again. Thank you all for your unconditional support and patience. I appreciate this outlet endlessly.
A heart cold as ice, Melts when treated nice. A few drops of ******, Put on your lip balm, Risk and roll the dice! Let’s not care about your vice! A few **** of nicotine, Needles filled with morphine, Drink your codeine, Destroy your veins with ******. Maybe twice, Maybe thrice. Forget all your worries, Burn your autum leaves, Forget how to live, Like breath’s stolen by thieves.
A poem about drugs. I’m just an 18 year old boy that hasn’t tasted drugs, or even alcohol and tobacco. It’s just a product of my endless self-control I guess. Except for caffeine, I’m addicted to that.