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angel Sep 2017
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.
suicide. the police stopped looking for him because the woods were too dark and they'll resume in the morning. all i'm hoping for is that he's alive.
ICN Jul 2017
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.
//i want to go home\\
angel Jul 2017
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.
Dakota Jun 2017
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.
angel May 2017
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?
still confused about him.. i don't know him like i thought i did. he knows me well but not that well.
EEZ Oct 2016
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.
EEZ Sep 2016
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.
B Young May 2016
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.
Drew Vincent Apr 2016
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.
For the past 4 years, I thought she was clean. Now I just find out she's been lying this whole time.
evocatory Dec 2015
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
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