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Jaci 7h
I'm just another kid with pills and a wish to be killed.

I'm gonna do it I keep telling myself.
I'll swallow unspoken words,
Taking shots of pills like it's natural.
Maybe it would be better with only my face upon a bookshelf.

Should I leave a note?
Risk leaving the bathroom floor and everyone see me?
Maybe it would be easier to let these pills but free me.

The pills are in my hands right now,
Light as a feather usually, but now it's like holding a boulder,
Like a bullet I'd wanna shoot through my head to stop the thoughts.
I have but no one to lay my head upon their shoulder.

The hopes I wouldn't feel this way today,
shattered like glass, sharp as a knife that pierced through porcelain skin.
Like I have to **** myself to prove a point no one cares for.
Like I have a chance of being a boy instead of hoping only in my core.

I got her mad so she wouldn't care,
Send my ****** dead body but a glare.
But what would mom think?
Seeing her "daughter" dead on the floor by the sink.
The thought of it being her fault, the pills stain her brain like ink.

Everyone's neutral, it's the perfect time.
Maybe they'd think of my guts as but slime.
But if I were to die it would be selfish,
As my dad would've already cried and became less sheepish.
Would his kid with pills cause him to be squeamish?

I feel disgusting,
I feel like ****.
I don't want to, but I do as I sit.
I hate people like a man lusting.

I can't love, It doesn't fit like a glove.
Maybe one day I can stop it,
Fly free of these thoughts as if a dove.
I wish I didn't hate or love,
Wish I didn't think of these pills as if a gift from above.

I like my friends though,  they're cool.
They only but sometimes leave me sitting on a stool.
They're not necessarily cruel,
Someone I yern to become.

Yern to not be so nervous,
To be less skittish.
Maybe I yern to be anyone but me,
Yern to be what people see as me.

I'm not all of what one might think,
I cry after each blink.
Cause at the end of the day I'm not "mature" or "cool",
I'm just another kid with pills in reach.
Wrote this on the bathroom floor (never could've guessed huh? Lol)
At some point
the pills stop being for you.
They become gifts for those
who care so much
that they don’t want you to die.
They are for the therapists
the doctors
the psych nurses
the health techs
the ER staff
and psychiatrists
desperately rooting for you.
Take them.
Take them until they’re for you again.
In the dance of body and mind, intertwined, Distort the body, the mind’s path unwinds. Disrupt the mind, the body’s rhythm breaks, A cycle of chaos, each part it takes.
Western medicine, with its potent pills, Prescribes for the body, yet the mind it fills. Natural processes, disrupted and torn, A dependence on pharmaceuticals is born.
The body’s whispers, now muffled and weak, The mind’s clarity, a distant peak. In this cycle, we seek to find, A balance of body, a harmony of mind.
Holistic paths, a gentle embrace, To heal the body, the mind’s grace.
Emma Nov 2024
Pills rattle on cue,
Cats purr in soft solace true.
Sofa hugs my frame,
Netflix whispers, sleep reclaims—
Healing slow, the hours accrue.
Yesterday I stayed home was too sick and in pain to move. Today I'm only going to help my friends, I desperately need to rest.
Kaiden Lewis Nov 2024
Twelve.
Such a wonderful age.
The human is still young, yet beginning to gain more knowledge.
But my twelve was different.

My twelve wasn't playing with toys
Or reading books all day
No.
It was about working a hard job under my stepfather's violent hand.

About crying out for help
Yet too quiet to be heard.

My twelve was about finding the power of
Turning mental pain into that of physical
About the box of pills in my drawer
And a bottle of water helping them get into my system

My twelve was about going to sleep
And hoping i'll never wake up
About my mother not knowing her child tried to end his life
At its very beginning.
Even after the 2 years thatr have passed since that day, i don't understand how someone could ever do something like that to a child.
Uzziah Ruffin Sep 2024
In the depths of despair, I find myself bound
Wrapping my feelings, discarded and drowned
A facade I wear, to hide all the sad
These pills promised joy, but it's all just a fad

Awoken from slumber, uncertainty sets in
A dreamlike haze, questioning where I've been
Carelessly ingesting the pills I rely
But happiness eludes, just a hollowed-out lie

A world spinning 'round as I lay on the floor
Regret floods my thoughts, seeping to my core
Perhaps behind the smile, I was never truly glad
A facade shattered, revealing the sadness I've had

Waiting for flatline as time slips away
The clock's steady ticking, my senses betray
Listening closely, knowing the world will carry on
In its blissful ignorance, without me, it will dawn.
noura Aug 2024
Yesterday I swallowed a tiny glass capsule
much like that
I've been walking around in for years
amongst these picture people.
My palm clung to walls made sticky by the heat,
skin to pane,
I could not bear to let go.
I wanted to enjoy their stapler smiles
but the fog made it impossible to see.
I only called it what it was
when I breathed it into the glass.
It was always there.
I wished it would fill the whole thing,
wished I had a match,
so it would serve some purpose.
So my capsule becomes gray and troubling
against its paper background.
So they stop and stare,
Look at the girl in the bubble.
I think she's suffocating.
Like it's a revelation.
Like Gabriel himself hand-delivered
tiny glass pills for them to swallow.
Let me be their spectacle.
Let me be the object of their pity.
Let me be a one-woman-glass-capsule miniature show.
I'll be their tired metaphor.
I'll choke on shimmering shards so they can watch my blood color their roses.
I'll drink until I'm heavy with turpentine.
I will destroy myself.
I will make it clean.
Tiny glass capsule
in my wooden palm
who did you once hold?
Odd Odyssey Poet May 2024
I took that pill, and here were the symptoms:

In your eyes; I’d rather seem different, than distant—
still in the very distance, could you see me in a better light?

While coming to these unacquainted places;
meeting in between, hoping not to be as complacent.

As cutting ties, feels like cutting corners, still if I could
love someone only for a night, I’d adore the
memory of it, in that later morning.

A real tough pill to swallow.
Elena Nov 2023
I started using again
Needed distraction
Needed happiness
Needed the buzz
I started using again
Replaced my mind with a pill
One two three four
After that I lost the count
Cigarettes burn my lungs
I breath in and breath out
But I still suffocate
In my own despair
Elena Oct 2023
One pill
Panic attack stops
Two pills
Anxiety goes
Three pills
I am high up in the clouds
Four pills
Who am I?
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