My thoughts are dazed…
Claustrophobic and hazed.
I’m exhausted and unamazed,
Fatigueness of some kind, low from the natural high.
Thoughts in my mind are delusive and unkind.
Dizzy and feeling quite fizzy
Not in the mood for studying, excitement, and fun.
Sitting by my lonesome self just writing what I can process.
Head feels heavy, got me feeling a bit queasy
Uneasy
Zoned out and lost in my thoughts
Sun is out and the wind is harsh…
It’s skin prickling and dissatisfying.
My exhaustion is sickening.
Absolute death and no reason
No fret
But anguished in my enclosed mind
But no threat…

System overkill
Discredit and disregard
Explain but disagree and make it hard
Exhalation and permutation
Loss of existence and clouded perception

Obsessive minds and sniffed up lines
Excessive amounts and numbers you cannot even count.
Broken, ripped, torn, and outwardly worn.
A lost ghoul, selfish, and for more you mourn.
Poor and dead, not yourself, completely blacked out and unconscious in bed.

Overdosed on the ******’ pills, suicide attempts never work…
Let the meds pour…
Gone, so gone…
Just let the meds pour...

I am NOT sad.
I am DEPRESSED.
There is a huge difference.
If you don't get it then got look it up.
Learn about it before you judge me.
Deal with it or leave because there is only one cure. I won't get it for a long while. be there for me or leave.
I am done. With it all.
Only a few things are keeping me from finding a blade or overdosing.
RIGHT NOW.
So before you want to run your mouth.... how bout ya make an effort, know me. Then maybe you can be smarter about what you gotta say.

Hey kid, you've been dead a few weeks and I'd just like to say hello. The ground has its first December coat of fragile snow over your dead body and I know you can't feel the cold but I'll tell you right now, I can see my frozen toes, just barely move them, breathe up into the sky, Id be lying if I said I still cry every day. But, I'm lying to myself if I said that I'm not trying to take back your pain every day in a way that won't make your heart start beating again.

I wonder if those butterflies ever drank up the nectar from your blood, probed their soft tongues into the velvet of your cuts, those razor blade ribbons, oh holy romantic, how you bleed like Mozart and bleed like ballads of classic rock stars, how they whip your face with sour sweat and drugs and drugs and drugs until you find yourself half asleep, brain swept under the rug.

Did you know only 1.5% of drug overdose related suicide attempts are successful? Beautiful blonde martyr for an ugly catholic high school in an ugly state in the ugliest of its hearts, how does it feel to be 1 in 100? How does it feel to be a rarity, carbon pressed into diamond? How does it feel to be cry for a week, left in the grass to roll like waves, buried without a name and a face and a grave?

In the latest of solemn sleep deprived nights I press my ear to the chest of the 100th depressed boy I come across and don't feel Vicodin climbing up his arteries, don't feel Klonopin, OxyContin, Ibuprofen. I can't seem to find the one, who knows, maybe you were it and all my efforts really were wasted. All those nights I've stayed up late did nothing. All those knives I stole, all that blood I wiped away with t-shirt sleeves, all the blankets I've put around stupid shaking shoulders, all the bittersweet will this be the last time your skin is this warm hugs, God did they mean nothing at all?

I lock my jaw into a permanent silence, buy back time by putting my money where your knife is. I take bets on when someone will die next. I read the label on every bottle of Xanax. I roll over in my bed again and again, and try to put you to rest again.

Amen.

We entertain the idea that it is but a moment of
joyful bliss,
But did you share that sting?
              Was it too much for a whisper of kaleidoscope
                                                    ­                     pleasures.....
There is but one ending to this eclipse of the senses.
                              "Either,
You float on the butterflies of enthral bliss,
                    Or when that needle penetrates
Its like a  bullet to the brain....


                          There is only silence and stillness
and blood lubricates the nasal.
     They say an overdose is like a bullet to the brain
                    but one only some are revived from....

Do you wish to play roulette to see which shot
                                                         ends your life.

my head hurts
in a way
that ******* gross aspirin cannot fix
i can still taste the overdose
in the back of my throat
the pits of my
aching stomach
trying to expel
its chalky white substance
my head hurts
i'm too traumatized by
"pills"
fix me, ******* magically fix me
please

I never thought you'd take it so far

A clever girl with spots running across

Your cheeks were pale this morning

It reeks of foul play and burning

Black tar bubbling on a hot summer

Days in the sun remind me of the

Night we soaked each other in liquor and

******* basements are chilly when

Your blood runs thin, the ink soaks skin

Needle ****** again and again but

This time you stayed asleep.

Rest in peace...old friend.

there's the freedom
and then there's the silence
i could probably reach out
and break the silence
but it's taboo to tell the truth
except when it came to you

if i tell her i'm on drugs
it'll be oh poor child
announcing it on every tv station
every corner of the world will know
her daughter is better than me
(even though she sleeps with a different
woman every night)
but i'm the one on drugs

and then you tell
your friend and she listens
and she listens
and she listens
until the words float around her head
and stop meaning
and she goes numb
hasn't slept in days
and the words have
lost their meaning
you've repeated the same story
so many times
she'll hear it again
but you lost the impact
and
she won't say
you poor child
it's not what you want to hear
it's what you need to hear
maybe not

the rest of them
the rest of them are gone
and there's that one in the red shirt
but she's talking about knees and bees
and i don't think she wants to talk about me
but i want to talk about me
i want to tell someone how i feel
how the freedom lasted a week
then the silence
then the silence

now the silence

and you used to listen
to my stories of blood and roses
and somewhere in between
the lick of insanity which took away
your pain
and the lick of insanity
that brought it back
you found me
a mouthful of insanity
in a world of the sane
and i took away your pain
to give it back
harder
faster
you made me scream
harder
faster
you made me scream
it hurt
you hurt
you really hurt
but you were the pain
that reminded me
why i lived because
the freedom
then the silence
the silence doesn't feel
it doesn't hurt
i haven't cried in a week
you know?
i haven't cried in a week
and it's probably the drugs
but i haven't cried in a week

oh wait
no, i did cry
they were doing this workshop
and they talked about being forced into giving head
and i cried
i cried
infront of the crowd i cried because
i remembered
and i remember
and it wasn't all bad
it was kinda fun
but you know
the greatest things hurt the most
and i didn't like it very much

maybe it's the drugs.

The snow was heavy. It wasn't a storm, it didn't come down hard, but over the week the ground became plasterd in that thick blanket he knew oh so well. He lifted some in his palm and tasted it. It was inviting, sweet, yet punishing. He knew the sickness the world would bring but he couldn't resist himself. A snow man threw him a snow ball, and asked if he wanted to go sledding. He bit the bait then slid the ***** and a snow angel he became.

I'm sitting here listening
To your voice on the machine
Begging and pleading
this all be a dream
She wrapped her arms
around your heart
Tortured and pulled
Til the beating stopped
Now I sit here asking
Will I follow you soon?
Who's next in line?
Can I meet you on the moon?
I'll meet you on the moon, darling
I'll meet you in the stars
I'll meet you on the moon darling
To pull the needle from your arms
I'm sitting here Nikki
Numbing my own pain
Up the nose, there it goes Nikki
We are one in the same
She wrapped that tie
Around your arms
Tighter and tighter
Leaving only her scars
That minute
That hour
Of pure delight
It stopped your breathing
It stopped your fight
Now I'm sitting here Listening
to your voice on the machine
Knowing full well
It's not a bad dream
I sit here and wonder
Will I join you soon?
Can I meet you Nikki?
Can I meet you on the moon?
I'll meet you on the moon, darling
I'll meet you in the stars
I'll meet you on the moon sweetie
To pull that needle from your arms.