#xanax
There was a guy
Who always felt like
He could just slide through
All of the days,
Riding a high, feeling
Like he could just
Shuffle the haze,
They thought him crazed;
They called him Teddy,
And this guy was ready
To help you let everything out!
A piece and a quarter,
It's all you let over,
And he would just rise up
And shout!
Said "I'm Teddy xans, so
Give me your hands,
And let me show you
What it's 'bout!"
I told him, pass me
A couple of bars,
Let me raise up
To the level you're on,
Pass me the liquor,
Let's crash us some cars,
End up with flex,
So what's coming next?
He was perplexed,
Said 'what does that
Make us?'
I said "relax, dude
We're just from Texas;"
He said "go on, we've got
Time to spend,", I said
"I'm halfway dead,
Old friend,"
He said "no worries,
We're not in a hurry,
Just rack em' and
Stack em' , and let em'
Be buried,
Your wants, your needs,
Your life in the streets."
I asked him,
"So what does that
Make me?"
Aug 27, 2023
Aug 27, 2023 at 12:28 AM UTC
Tonight I feel as empty as the prescription bottles on my nightstand.
- Antidepressants
Jul 20, 2022
Jul 20, 2022 at 3:11 AM UTC
Rabbit Looked at his
golden pocket watch
Time Stopped at 11:11
Hundred upon hundreds
knight of xans Drowned
in the bitter Sea of *****
My eyes lost there Shine
The Day that Sky Went Black
C.N.S is Down
C.N.S is Down
C.N.S is Down
No HEAVEN or HELL
Just Infinite Darkness
C.N.S Is Down
C.N.S is Down
C.N.S Is Down
No Black or White Coma
I just Died that Day
C.N.S Is Down
C.N.S is Down
C.N.S Is Down
No HEAVEN or HELL
Just Infinite Darkness
C.N.S Is Down
C.N.S is Down
C.N.S Is Down
No Black or White Coma
I just Died that Day
C.N.S Is Down
C.N.S is Down
C.N.S Is Down
C.N.S Is Down
C.N.S is Down
C.N.S Is Down
C.N.S Is Down
C.N.S is Down
C.N.S Is Down
"I finally Knew Who I was
When I Died That Morning"
Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 5:05 AM UTC
Xanax in my drawer.
Correctly prescribed, yet unwanted.
Waits for me in a childproof container.
The moon, through my window panes, illuminates my room.
Aside from the most geometric corners of blackness.
My anxiety pains through my dreams.
Prompting me to stay awake.
The moonlight bounces off my nightstand drawer's brass handle.
Where the Xanax rests.
Where I could rest.
No pleasure in falling asleep.
When the only way possible is to stumble into it.
High and depraved.
One pill doesn't work, only two.
And I'm off to the moon.
Finally asleep, but not in control.
There's a reason we haven't gone back.
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 3:41 PM UTC
Justin I forgive you, won’t you call me, your birthday must be coming soon we haven’t spoken since we moved our family into the desert. I just pray you’re not seeking cotton fever yet again, chasing the dragon, or at the very least eating school buses while falling into ‘H’ before you find yourself in bed drunk again, and on Ambien too. Dead too soon. You’ve always wondered why I didn’t introduce you to Ryan, my other incredibly dear and brotherly friend. Well wonder none more, he’s in a padded room at Mt. Sinai in Lakeview or perhaps Northwestern’s adult care unit, there was talk or at least I imagined he could make it to Lakeside Manor right there East of Foster. So it’s clemency, peace of mind, and something to loosen the edge off your back, something to let you fall, something to set your pain at weightless your mind at I-Don’t-Have-To-Give-A-Fuck-Anymore, my friend where have you been? Where have you taken yourself? Please drag yourself back at least a half-step, reverse your position and engineer an out please. I can’t begin to accept losing both of my brothers to two versions of the same disease.
Oct 20, 2019
Oct 20, 2019 at 1:10 AM UTC
I'm standing in a small living room, dead center. My family and even some people I don't know, all proud Mexican people, stand around me.
I don't know why, but this memory is blurry and filled with static.
Some buzzing, angry voice cuts my ears. The sound a sharp, electric squeal. It hurts less as I get used to it, but I've been used to it. My ears tune the squeal and I know this sound. My uncle maybe. To be honest I can't remember.
My mind drifts off.
I blink in the light from the projector. Words flash across a sterile screen, something about an opioid overdose. First aid training presentation. I sit in a chair that's too small for me. My hips feel bruised.
Someone in class answers a question but I'm barely paying any mind. I can't stop thinking about drugs. I read the words in our follow along study guide earlier and now I can't get it out of my head...my head.
The hum turns into a low rumble.
I glance over to where it's coming from, the corner of a ****** apartment, the rumble creeps through the wall until it hits the sliding door to the balcony. Lightning bolt. I'm tripping acid somewhere I used to live.
I know I'm not there though. Just more flashbacks. Just more memories of things that feel good.
The phone rings.
I'm in my car, my cousin hesitates through the phone. My grandpa has cancer. I don't know how to feel because I've been avoiding him. I try to feign distress. Maybe make him think I'm not a terrible person for not knowing if I'm supposed to care…
I know I feel something. My stomach feels uneasy, like it always does. Except right now it feels uneasy like it usually doesn't. I tell him I need to hang up. I do. But it feels like a lie. I am self centered.
I am quiet.
The living room full of brown skin and brown eyes, red spit. They yell at me. My uncle's make fun of me for being ashamed of my skin. My last name is Montejano, but today my thirteen year old self has disowned my family. I'm tired of being called immigrant at school.
My cousins are solace, peace. I'm sure one of them told, but they pretend they care and some of them mean it. I am the bully in my family, I see them and I wonder if I even deserve my brown skin.
The memory sort of fades as I listen to the talking in front of me. Projector playing a slideshow. Things I should be writing, things I know. My right index finger is cut by a glass I'm washing in the sink.
The wound is large. I can see loose tissue while I wash it out. We find duct tape and some paper towels from the burgers we had last night.
I snort xanax. I'm outside.
Someone's playing guitar, I'm looking at the ceiling. It's just a memory but it feels so good.
My grandpa is in the driver's seat of a semi truck. We are passing a massive golden spire surrounded by trees. Somewhere near Maine or Virginia. As I try to remember the place we were, his face fades. His black hair is grey. And I don't remember it.
We're sleeping at a truck stop where he warns me not to open the doors at night. I don't sleep.
I step out of my dad's pick up truck a week later and it's the first time I experience perspective shifts, his truck isn't as big as my grandpas.
This is the first time I realise how small I am.
I'm pulling into a parking space as I get home from work. I can't remember how I got here.
Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 1:36 AM UTC
Yes I can,
Take your hand,
Smile like a fool,
And say "Isn't life grand?"
And we can plan,
With Lady Xan...
Stressful days,
Sleepless nights,
Can't catch a wink
For the sweat and fright,
When I feel like,
I've lost the fight...
The pleasant sound
That bottle makes...
I toss it in my palm,
Like an old mistake,
And wonder how
Many should I take?
A little here,
A little there,
A little in the middle
Of my Anywhere,
And I can breathe,
This stagnant air...
But when she's gone,
Oh, trouble brews,
Feeling such a pain
I never thought I knew,
What to do?
Oh, what to DO?
With Lady Xan,
The lowest hand,
Feels like a gift
From a wonderland,
And yes I can,
With Lady Xan.
Sep 8, 2019
Sep 8, 2019 at 11:28 AM UTC
"But you need a prescription to get Xanax."
The internet told me
Maybe ibuprofen,
Lying in the cabinets?
I don't need more drugs to get me high
Medicines are legal, right?
So I'm sitting here again
Looking for Legal drugs
Teens get high on
Because I regret
Throwing my drugs away
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 12:45 AM UTC
"Xanax for the pain inside my brain,
temporarily easing off of the full throttle gas petal that drives me insane.
Almost silencing all of the screams ,
and repetitive voices of my own self conscious, blaming self for all of my
regrets and broken dreams.
The calming of my ugly inner demons,
abusing me with the ways of their
constant torture..
I am still my own worst enemy,
and always will be,
evermore.."
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 8:59 PM UTC
o, darling
daylight has never been your most flattering
light
and how could it be?
you never sleep,
because life is but a dream
like that old
children's song
goes
dear god of boujee
women, the ones with
bloodstained louboutins
let me autotune myself to sound inhuman,
say my prayers to
you
in the dying light
of the atl
freeways
my only hymn i have to
offer is that of
migos
and instead of bread and wine
i have lean and
xanax
o, darling
our eyes will never
age
and new money, who dis?
will forever be the closest thing
we have to a mantra
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
Can't tell if it’s my vision blurring or my head is vibrating from the music I'm blurting.
I just can't hear my thoughts over the bars he spits and the bars I swallowed.
Things seem much better now that my head feels hollow.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
Half an orange
to help me sleep
to help me not think of you
to help me shut down my brain
like a laptop that's been left on
for two weeks straight
I break an orange pill in half
tonight I hope it's all I need
to help me sleep
I toss it back
I hope it doesn't get caught
in the corners of my throat
like all the words
I cannot say out loud
I take pills
because there's not enough wine
to drown out my thinking
not enough meditation
to quiet the constant hum
I long for a day
when sleep did not escape me
the night before
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 12:26 PM UTC
Have a cup of anxiety
It will go down well with your vanity
And sip it down your narcissistic throat
All the way down to your stomach bloat
Eat the food for your hungry belly
Watch your legs turn to strawberry jelly
Your obsessive thoughts come out your ears
As you quickly chew down all your fears
Crybaby tears and acidic words
Make swallowing all the more absurd
Your mascara smudged eyes watch your
tunnel vision
Your brain candy makes a banana split-
personality decision
It's a nightmare you can barely control
But if you don't pay attention it will eat
you whole
So swallow down all your crazy mad panics
Along with your trusty reliable xanax
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 5:50 PM UTC
i sent flashing lights to his door,
i didn't want to risk it.
the image of those pills and that deep brown coffee liqueur scared me, the thought of him filling himself with it.
he told me he wasn't mad at me for it,
he told me everything was okay and not to do it again, though.
i guess he felt too bad,
i guess it hurt him like last time.
she sent the flashing lights to the forest,
she told me that things weren't looking up.
my cheeks are tacky with tears,
my nose is stuffy.
now i'm just waiting all night,
now i'm just waiting until i get a message that they found him in the forest.
i can't sleep knowing that i'm part of why,
i can't sleep wondering if he'll be okay.
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 3:45 AM UTC
i was never into all that crazy ****
or going back just to take a hit
let's give it up for the kids that are lonely
the ones that are scared
real friends so uncommon
so fake i'm convinced they're mass produced
currently trying to find my way out
partying on a weekday
i don't care if i get laid, or laid off
i'm finally breaking out of my shell
xanies with the girls in the bathroom
lines of that powder
and they say it's all right, harmless.
it's all harmless.
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 12:54 AM UTC
your body reaches up into the sky like the buildings where you lived in harlem,
your hair and your jeans are dark like the tar in your lungs from all that smoking,
your face is scattered with dark moles like the night skies when you text me,
your smile is wide and goofy like mine when you call me baby girl,
your voice is deep and low like the rappers you listen to,
your hands are soft like the fleece inside your hoodies,
your hugs are warm like the texas sun that you used to bask under,
you're sweet like that cough syrup i drink,
you're strong like that *** i get drunk on,
you're calming like that **** i pack into a pipe,
you're fun like that extra pill i pop,
and you're my gentle giant.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 11:14 PM UTC
i forcefully chew the xanax into pieces,
letting the bitter taste coat my mouth
as it reminds me of what will soon be in my system.
i let it calm me down as i contemplate more,
deciding on acid instead. god i’m ******* up my body.
five trips in two and a half months and i feel
like this is never going to end.
i’m going to keep buying xanax and i’m going to keep taking it
and it might even ruin my life but i don’t give a ****
take my fifty and hand me a dozen bars and i’ll tell you
i’m in love. the other night i took some and drank
and my mom was worried but she figured it was
just my medication. i owe you neurotin,
i contemplate my new bruises just as colors
start to dance. i want my love back but
in the meantime, this artificial intrigue
will just have to do. hopefully i live
long enough to see my darling again.
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 3:52 PM UTC
you had me in large chunks
and at some points, you had me whole
i had you in crumbs
and at some points, i had you in pieces and it wasn't fair
that's part of why i had to run away
you knew me too well and all i knew of you were the tiny, sad parts
but eventually i realized that she probably knew these parts, too
and i didn't feel like i knew you at all anymore
and still, i wonder
do they know what i know?
do they know about the bullets you held so close to your skull?
or about the xanax you would lay on your tongue when the sky was starry and your blankets were wrapped around your shaking body?
or about how you are so scared of people being behind you that you shake like a puppy and sweat beads up on your freckled neck?
does she know that?
will she?
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 7:06 PM UTC
Coffee and a Klonopin,
I've been thinking hard
on just how long it's been
You--me, me and you
I pop another one in
and you say it's cool.
But I've been so cold,
baby
These things are my seeds
they let me grow, baby.
Nothing feels right.
Blame it on the pills,
I've been seeking thrills, baby
sitting with some
hennesy on the floor,
just to stop the chills, baby.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 3:27 PM UTC
Drumkits on the desk,
next to the mirror plate and the advil.
Momma, I'm just tryna do my best,
I been taking things just to keep
my hands still.
You already know.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 1:39 PM UTC
Pocket full of clacking around benzodiazepines
Xanax, Klonopin, and ******
Am I late for class? Am I late for work?
Am I late for my own life? (truth)
Is this really any normal kind of respite or relaxation?
Chemistry really has come a long way to introduce
us to induced relaxation(?) pills.
My Mr. Dr. says it should help with my anxiety,
but it only seems to cloud me in my depravity:
I steal, I lie, and I wake up naked in unknown
bedrooms in unknown cities with unknown
women. Who…did they steal my wallet?
And where the **** are my car keys?
Better yet, where in Allah’s name is my car?
OH! Lord Jesus Christ OH! God of the Jews I cry out,
Forgive me (lie) for I hath sinned.
I suddenly want to do every drug (truth)
ever made, you name it, I’ll try it,
just this once, of course. I don’t have an
addictive personality (lie)
The Dr. says it is OK if I take 4mg of Xanax a day (truth),
hence it must be safe (lie), right? A Dr. can’t lie, can he?
Wait! Where am I again? And, what are we doing here?
Oh…that’s right, we are kids going nowhere (truth), how
silly of me to forget. If this is Prozac Nation,
then I am the ****** State. My governor is the late
William Burroughs (lie) and my deputy is the late Kurt Cobain (lie).
We are not in this for the fame (lie), a state run by the deceased.
So, how dare you point a finger at me in blame.
This is Drug Nation, America-home of the sedated and land of the overdose.
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 8:13 PM UTC
Do you know how bad you have hurt me? My heart is broken. I don't want you to come up in March. I don't want you to come up here because of the way you are acting. I do have a problem with Xanax, that is why Willie checks my meds. We tried to keep this from you. We didn't want you to know. I'm not taking them irregularly! Almost all bipolar people like myself end up in suicide. If you cut ties with me now, Drew, I can't tell you what's going to happen. I've stopped taking all my meds. Are you happy now?
•
•
•
All these thoughts run wildly through my head.
I feel as though I'm suffocating.
The world is weighing down on my shoulders,
causing me to sink into the ground.
I knew this would be hard,
but I never thought it would be this bad.
This was not my intention.
I did not want you to stop taking all your medication;
just the ones you're not taking properly.
I don't hate you and I'm not mad.
I'm just highly upset and worried about you.
I'm upset because I have seen the way you are without these pills.
You're a fun and loving mom without them.
Yet, we know how miserable everyone is when you're on them:
our family, friends, and your co-workers.
I'm worried because I cannot make you clean.
I cannot make your addiction go away.
You have to go through it on your own.
However, the methods you're trying don't seem to be working.
I'm worried that you won't admit to yourself that you have a problem,
and that you won't get the proper treatment.
I'm worried that I'm too late and there's no saving you.
Most of all, I'm worried I will have a dead mother.
A mother who died from the thing I hate most: medication.
I hope you find this before it's too late.
I don't want to lose you.
I know we've had our disagreements and misunderstandings,
but that doesn't mean I care about you any less.
You mean a lot to me.
You're my mother and I love you.
Always
I'm not trying to cut ties with you.
I want to see you get better and back on the right track.
I want you to be the crazy fun mom I used to have;
not the mom who is completely dependant on pills.
I wish you the best of luck.
Hopefully, my decision to not come back until your better will give you the motivation you need.
Go seek professional help!
Just know I will always love you and that I'm not mad.
I'm just hurt but overall I'm worried.
Get well soon.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
and it's pretty warm for december
the kind of weather where we'd roll down your windows
drive around that place you call home
i hate that place now
i was thinking about you
what's new
but more about last night's xanax bar
the way it made me feel weightless
and mostly because i didn't miss you in those moments
i'm going to do more
i'm sorry
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC