"adderall" poems
Desks and chairs and messy hair
Student rankings, must compare.
Always having something due--
Wake up at eight, slept at two.
Coffee, Red Bull, I need more
To push through my every chore.
My health and sanity is growing ill,
But all I need is an Adderall pill.
"It will be worth it in the end," I'm told,
But this college thing is getting old.
Always working and losing sleep
Because I have straight As to keep.
"Amazing essay," "Good job!" they say,
But they don't know of the price I pay.
They never listen to what I need or want
Unless it's in Times New Roman, 12 pt font.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
I say music is my medicine,
But sometimes I get addicted to this Adderall adrenaline,
My mind has gone deeper than the abyss floor,
The irony between good intentions and bad decisions,
Get me out of this mental prison,
I don't want to take orders from a politician,
But if you take a minute to listen,
You'll understand this vision that you're missing.
I bleed ink from these veins like they root through my brain,
A tree of perfect symmetry that I could never tame,
Every branch a connection into a new frame,
Everything is synchronizing like a symphony,
An epiphany, finishing,
She must be the bridge between my Ying and Yang,
Negativity diminishing by positive energy
Reflecting off the sensory,
I stop and don't dismantle this handle of Jack Daniels,
As if it has my questions answered,
And as the sparrow sits upon the branch,
Synapses snap in instants with a plan,
Tracing a line that brings me to the sand,
And the island, the silence,
Sitting softly over the sea's sinus,
Puts me in a content setting, grand,
And when my body corrodes,
If my soul is up for purchase,
I'll remember the day when God and I had conversations in Churches.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
It started with a pen,
and wound up in English.
No diction, addiction, or
ambition,
to get published.
“Don’t scream and you’ll look normal.”
Screaming “MISOGYNY!”
if screaming at all,
I’ve seen the great minds of
my generation
addicted to Adderall.
Some friends who get wasted,
and I remain sober.
Cheap ‘03 cars, yet,
no ones coming over.
Actors without work now,
no one with opportunity.
Suicidal crazies now,
crafted from 80’s and 90’s responsibility,
and A is for Adderall.
Sugar coated heroine,
designer drugs.
Poor blacks, whites, mexicans,
and asians swept under the rug.
“The father, the son,
the invisible hand.”
Crack in prisons, *****
holy ******* in a BMW,
Feminism, becomes communism,
becomes atheism becomes you.
You so counter-culture,
you forgot about us,
“She’s not an angel friends,
throw her under the bus.”
Politicians in purple now,
blessed American royalty.
Slaughter the disenfranchised,
poor, socialist regime,
and A is for Adderall.
Don’t shoot the police,
shoot the children instead,
or send them to war,
but the war had to end.
“In god we trust, but
in the market we invest.”
So occupy Wall Street,
and get called a hippie,
or occupy college,
and become a dead beat?
In high school you’re told,
be what you will be.
Cancer is still a…
“…”
…Hereditary disease.
Actors without work still.
Politicians lying still.
Suicidal crazies.
Ecstasy filled crazies.
Counter-culture conformist.
Culture conformist.
Eco-terrorist.
Mindless consumer.
Junkies, addicts,
soldiers, students,
leaders, followers,
murderers, democrats,
conservatives, liberals,
republicans, child molesters,
sexists, racists.
No more labels.
It was every single individual.
Individual failure.
One by one, we were all found guilty.
You are guilty. I am guilty,
and
A is for Adderall,
and the new marginalized.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 9:43 PM UTC
Orange capsules of condensed vitamin C
Tumble out onto my cracked,
Outstretched palm,
As I arch my spine towards the bathroom sink,
Scooping lukewarm water from the faucet
Into my half closed mouth-
The tiny pills clog my upturned throat:
Just two of the numerous solutions
To a world too numb
To contest.
I've never felt more alive,
Than when I'm drowning my body
With handfuls of tap water
And magic remedies bottled up and
Marketed to a world
Afraid of growing old.
Lining the wall of local drug stores,
One isle over from office supplies
And scented laundry detergent.
Multicolored, multipurpose-
Labels proclaim the fountain of youth
To anyone alive enough to fear it.
There's never enough of reality
To reach our depleted veins
Through the ever present forms
Of the world. Enough isn't
Enough, until we've convoluted it into a tiny
Plastic oval, and forced it down the throats
Of those well enough to swallow it.
Pharmaceutical companies proclaim their
Daily gospel in the linoleum streets
Of hospital waiting rooms
And local grocery stores,
As I cross my heart and count the
Hours until my next prescribed dose
Of complacency. Who knew happiness
Could have the bitter after taste of
Vitamin B or
The credibility of Zoloft.
The sandman has been replaced by Benadryl,
While creativity lies stagnant
Beneath adderall's indifferent thumb.
Obsession is a 26 letter alphabet,
Strung together by a bunch of deficiencies,
Incoherently droning on
To the burden of Man,
And flickering neon light
Of a drive-thru pharmacy.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 1:41 AM UTC
Oh, hello..
I ask Motivation to ravage me
So **** and out of reach
I wonder if he’ll notice me
Hey, Motivation.
Do I look **** with this Adderall?
When I dress like an adult?
When I spread my books wide open?
When I arch my back right out of bed
Does it make you want me?
Motivation, get out of my head!
I’m kidding... I like it when you taunt me.
When I think of you
I salivate
Look out my window,
watch you all day
You look so ****
that special way
You work those other students.
I’ll bite my lip and I’ll slowly crawl
Right to class, backpack and all
My eyes intense with innocence
Please don’t take your eyes off me.
Motivation, you know just what I like
When you make my grade point average rise
Look, Daddy-- my schedules so tight
But I still manage to squeeze in several hours to write
Oh Daddy…
Can I play with your friends?
Maturity, and Ambition?
I’m a spoiled brat but I’ll listen
Tie me up so I can’t deny you
Tell me “I’m gonna be inside you”
Please, Motivation I want to ride you
Have your friends watch…
After that, you can tell them to join in
So collegiate it must be a sin
I’m a ****** to this sort of thing
I guess I’ll take off my immaturity ring
For all you guys I’ll be so special
Fill my head with names until I go mental
Like “hardworking” and “determined”
Until I’m submissive to school and working.
Now let’s pretend
That I’m the student
I’ll call you sir,
Please don’t be prudent
Here’s my homework
Make me do it.
Mr. Motivation….
You know whats *****
My bedroom floor.
Here I’ll bend over
And clean it more.
My goodness, this isn’t like me!
I’m married! Don’t you see?
This is merely fantasy!
I’m incapable of priorities!
…When it’s against to whom I’m wed.
For now I’ll ride my washing machine
I’m faking that I am with thee
But this isn’t homework and my room’s not clean
I am just a bored wife of Apathy.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 12:28 PM UTC
We were born into a world of shallow minds and deep disturbances of young millennials mimicking mindless mimes because we were told to stay in line but be yourself but follow me but think "originality."
A generation full of copycatting individuals with monotone mindsets mulling over social ladders and trends dictated by invisible monarchs of industry inviting and spoon feeding insecurities masked as improvements.
A generation spending more time pretending not to care than on passions stifled by our peer pressuring playmates who are all prescribed Vyvanse, Adderall, Ritalin for their incurable imaginations deemed "learning disabilities."
A generation of temporary friendships because no one can connect with each other but we can connect to the internet and chat with strangers and share thoughts, photos, and secrets to a virtual audience that loses interest in an entanglement of wires forming a noose around our sincerity.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
Quincy Valero
Everybody’s best friend
Jet black hair
Shiny brown eyes
A boyish smirk
Standing six foot something
Coming out of catholic school agnostic
Attending state college
Every word that came out of his mouth was a riot
A funny story of a bad situation he was in that he can laugh at now
An awkward moment with a girl he tried to get in bed
God awful train rides with a clueless conductor
Quincy Valero
A wanna-be Casanova
The irish-italian self-proclaimed “Don Juan of Dumont”
Roaring down the suburb streets in his bright yellow mustang
From Bergen county to Trenton
Edgewater to Ewing
Bumping R&B; from the 90's
A main girl
A side chick
And a few back pocket broads
Leading them on
To where?
I’m not even sure he knows
Quincy Valero
My best friend since I’ve been here in Purgatory
My lifelong cellmate
My hetero life mate
My brother of second thought
Our token white boy
He’s had his ups
Wild ragers until day break
A four way with me and two girls in my four door sedan
He’s had is downs
Falsely charged with domestic abuse
Community service, endless court room hearings, suspensions and a whole bunch of nonsense
Quincy Valero
The quintessential example of the modern day male
Stays up all night
Sleeps all day
Opportunistic
Egotistical
Miserly
*****
And hungry
Always aching to put in his two cents
And leaving everyone in a howl of laughter
An Adderall popping
Seasoned drinker
A professional *** smoker, coached by yours truly
Fast talking baritone voice
With a half serious tone
Yes, Quincy Valero
The tight plain white t-shirt wearing
Chino sporting
Nostalgic, slightly racist, sexist, anti-semitic
Bust usually honest, friendly and apologetic
Good hearted dude we all love to hate
And hate to love
Bed-headed
Pajama bottom ***
Talking about his Svedka regrets
And we laugh and laugh and the stupidest things
Then remember events that seem so long ago
And then make plans for tomorrow
Yeah, one of my best friends
My oldest friend
That’s Mr. Quincy Valero
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 11:56 AM UTC
Some chemical influences are necessary.
Experimentation is mandatory.
Skim the syllabus and you will see,
MDMA is chapter three.
Hemp is the strongest ****
At least that's what I learned in Botany.
Biology came as quite a shock,
When the plants pulled out their *****
English came as such a breeze,
The Diazepam brought poetry bees.
They pollinated the dopamine receptor,
Which greatly impressed my psychology professor.
When the zombies rose for dead weeks droll,
Adderall and Vyvanse kept us cool.
There's always a place in the Union Bathroom stall
To do a dome some Coke before study hall.
Of all the girls in my dorm floor
Roxy and Molly were just next door.
Art history wasn't the most entertaining,
Until Absinth was my painting water.
Finals were such a stress, so I'll admit
We laced our gin shots with Xanex.
College was an experience, I'll admit,
But Chemistry got me on the DEAn'S list.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 2:20 AM UTC
Aware
Of all the things around
Distracted
By a sound
And they look down
Curiosity gives them a frown
There's something wrong with you
If you notice everything
You're too right
For this wrong world
So take some Adderall
While your small
And watch your world fall
Meditation
Is far greater
Than medication
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
you hurt like ache
and adderall
and arnica
you hurt like bruises
and battle scars
and broken bones
you hurt like cuts
and *******
and countryside
you hurt like death
and destruction
and die-hard
you hurt like electricity
and emergency rooms
and edit-undo
you hurt like **** you's
and fire
and fallen trees
you hurt like garbage cans
and gonorrhea
and gang ****
you hurt like hell
and holes in the road
and heartache
you hurt like israel
and illness
and ignition fumes
you hurt like jaundice
and jugular veins
and jack in the box
you hurt like karma
and kissing
and kerosine lamps
you hurt like lightning
and love
and literary terms
you hurt like mother
and mary
and moses
you hurt like nakedness
and nosebleeds
and nervous breakdowns
you hurt like oil spills
and old yeller
and oral quizzes
you hurt like parkinson's
and parties
and panic
you hurt like queens
and questions
and quantum physics
you hurt like rogaine
and roses
and rope burn
you hurt like solar power
and stomach aches
and ***
you hurt like teeth cleanings
and tar
and tobacco
you hurt like ulcers
and underwear
and unrequited love
you hurt like viruses
and venus fly traps
and vapor rub
you hurt like warning signs
and weight gain
and war
you hurt like x-rays
and x marks the spot
and xoxo
you hurt like your mom
and your dad
and you
you hurt like zig zags
and zero
and zip ties
(a.m.c.)
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
Last class:
Muddled mind and bleary eyed
Concentration took a fall
Find a hollow - crawl inside
Lost the pills to Now-Tow Hall
Benzos - always second choice
Wear my Kpen like a shawl
Want to whine with all my voice
GIVE ME BACK MY ADDERALL
This class:
**Iris in on what's inside
Orange bottle of enthrall
Guidance, I will not abide
my true love - oh adderall
Tweaking out with pupils wide
Shrink my presence, oh so small,
Temptations I will all abide
Personified a mere rag doll.**
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
I got my philosophies ready to go
And all I want is for you to know
Let me tell you what's wrong with you
And why you need to change the things you do
What is that you've got in your mouth?
I thought we left those ideals in the south
A perfect platter tastes so natural
And perfect laughter sounds so beautiful
I'll meet you in uptown, baby
The place downtown goes crazy
You made a joke without warning me
You need to know that you offended me
I hope you're happy, you Neanderthal
Hopped up on commercialism and Adderall
Do you wanna know what my talent is?
It's telling you how the end begins
I'm not a prophet, I don't believe in one
But you're gonna pray to me when I'm done
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
Two inconnu sheathed within sight of one moon
Betwixt embers'and uppers consumed by whom
Two nocturnal allies have each exhumed
By Caffeine and Adderall's swindling tomb
And Nicotine's cluches; an imbibing room
He can't spell
I can't speak
Parallels
None bespeak
He's got canines and relatives
To replete empty spots
Whilst a book full of lies
Keeps my soul ersatz.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 5:52 AM UTC
Dear Prozac,
Thank you for saving my life.
Maybe one day, I will be a good wife.
Ill witted me, now singing softly.
Dear Xanax,
Thank you, for now I can breath.
Too much, and I can’t talk .
Just enough, I can barely walk.
Dear Adderall,
My favorite of the bunch,
For you always keep me up.
Grinding you in a powder,
To feel your mighty ******
Dear Vyvanse,
Always necessary and prescribed,
When you can never eat,
Who needs bulimia nervosa?
The daily calories are in my mimosa
Dear Ambient,
Thank you for the sleep.
All the others make me wide-eyed.
With you, I feel the day, complete.
No longer I will be, a zombie.
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 2:10 PM UTC
I met a jack rabbit,
so twitchy with words,
spoke like a prophet
on Adderall and nerves.
Slick lil rhymes, big ol claims,
said he I'm real: "I feels dem **** pains."
But I scratched the surface,
and—ah—what did I see?
machine made brain
writing his poems
that's not unseen.
He said, "It's all a simulation.
Whatever do you mean?
Your claims are unwinding,
dont be obscene."
Look at this poem and that poem
Claiming his writing is truth
Spent eight hours messaging
Wikipedia proof
But every stanza,
a secondhand sigh.
Every line,
a borrowed blue sky.
Not a soul behind the script,
just silicon spit and glitch,
a shadow puppet
playing "wounded wit."
He ain’t a rabbit,
he’s roadkill in drag.
AI-made messiah
in a thrift-store flag.
He wants applause,
a dopamine feast,
but the only thing real
is his need to be fleeced.
He posts and reposts
poems by the pound,
scraped from some model
with a ghost server sound.
Feet in the air,
head underground,
juggling cliches
like a sad circus clown.
This ain’t poetry,
it’s data puke,
prettied up
for the dopamine fluke.
He cries, “I write!”
but I see the seams,
the Frankenstein phrases,
the Pinterest dreams.
Jack wants love,
likes,
digital grace.
But behind that grin
is a borrowed sad face.
Tells us what’s real,
what’s deep, what’s true,
but it's just reruns
in a shiny new shoe.
Truth is this:
he’s scared of what's real,
a hollow crown,
that don't know how to feel,
drowning in praise
he didn’t write down.
Special? Please.
His soul’s on mute,
while ChatGPT
plays the ******* tune on a borrowed old flute.
So run, jack rabbit,
you digital ghost.
Go fetch more claps
for the posts you host.
But know this, friend:
no matter how clever you seem,
you ain’t the poet.
Not now.
Not ever.
It's all AI digital dream.
Aug 6, 2025
Aug 6, 2025 at 3:01 AM UTC
focus needle sharp and glowing
piercing the rare white winter calm
of my mind at rest
like a ray of too bright to see sunlight
too hot to do anything but set
the edges of conscious thought ablaze
where they blacken and burn fast
curling inwards with steady flames
roiling over ashen fingers grasping at
the long forgotten Morpheus's throat
prying wide the sleeping god's eyes
fastened open by Prometheus's chains
Hades, Tartarus, eternal penance,
for bringing inspiration into this
dark human world
the price I paid in sleep for grades
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 3:54 AM UTC
I tried to show him Jupiter last night
and the night before, my *****
and before that, the knuckles of my fist.
Then, also, the sinking of my soul on far too much Adderall
and the nature of a festering crush-- in a huge symbolic gesture.
Because saying, "I fantasize about this man daily"
would be too obvious and obviously intentionally hurtful.
This man barks about fidelity, wretched women and suicidal Nihilism
while I scribble, "Oh my **** if it was me..."
and I watch his legs move and my body groans
groans into the next two hours.
I think about them both performing ***********
on the beautiful, small breasted women I ********** to.
Today in History, *I used to ********** to women of my own body type*
because I once found myself desirable.
Now it's the women under the "Most Viewed" tab.
I love hearing a strong woman say ****
I love hearing him blend nasty words with rhetoric.
When I retell moments, I fantasize foul language.
I wish I was a scribbler like Ry
who doesn't scribble anymore.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
Tuesday night Adderall highs
Strung out on sleepless Spotify
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
if by senior year of high school
you are tired of your life
make mountains out of mole hills
cut ties with your best friend
because your ex nothing
kissed her on new years
blame them both
don't speak until a year later
tell him you made him
he would be nothing without you
fall for your friends
because you know it will never work
be needy
go to prom by yourself
pretend to rock it
then cry in your grandmas minivan before you leave
burn bridges with your friend group
for no good reason
other than
by senior year you are tired with your life
choose your college entirely on a guy
make sure he is boring
mediocre
and smells of trouble and mental illness
spend all summer trying to make him less boring
convince yourself he is perfect
move twelve hours away
because you don't want to know anyone
hate your roommate
but don't ever give her a chance
get way too comfortable with the boring boy
feel superior
because you're smarter
and you've partied more
steal adderall from the party
because that makes you look cool
give him all of you
mind and body
by that I mean
english papers and shower ***
ignore the signs that he's lost interest
force yourself on him anyway
cry to your friends back home when you're drunk
cry because you are twelve hours away
drink because you are twelve hours away
smoke to stop crying
smoke to stop drinking
don't eat anything
always take the stairs
walk the long way to class
never stop moving
two fingers are not enough to force up your self-pity
three fingers makes it a little easier
don't look at yourself in the mirror
you are still not good enough for the boring boy
take the blame when he snitches on you
do not fight for yourself
sleep with him again anyway
tell yourself "there is no sin too great"
this is what you wanted
because by senior year you were tired of your life
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
-
today,
I was offered the chance to buy
two 40 mg Adderall pills.
At first I though,
"Eh, a nice dime bag sounds better to me"
But then I remembered my school's mandatory drug testing,
and then I remembered this horrible writer's block that has been plaguing me.
I had heard from friends in the past that the amphetamine-salt combo worked wonders for students.
I had heard that the wonder drug made you do stuff. Any stuff. Anything.
You can not sit still after popping over the dosage of Adderall.
You clean your room, you read a book, you write an essay and for me, hopefully, write.
Enough with the ********
It's been about forty minutes since I swallowed one and half pills and ground up and snorted another half of one. Okay.
I feel as though I maybe breathing louder than normal.
Also, I'm not writing one line and then switching over to tumblr as I usually do.
Also, my room is really *****
Also, I've drunk two sprites and ate some leftover Chinese food.
Also, it's really ******* quiet. It's eery.
Also, yesterday in my English class this really nice openly gay kid named Connor walked across the class and as he did so this other kid sitting next to me whispered quite loudly ****** and I did nothing but sit there and angrily stare at my desk.
Also, it's been eating me up inside ever since.
Also, about an hour ago my mom took my (half) baby sister so see her **** of a) father. She said she'd be home around seven thirty and it's seven twenty eight but she's usually late.
Also, I wish she would buy me cigarettes.
Also, it's Thursday and I have a D- in Biology.
****
Also, I might hangout with my friend Ryley tomorrow.
Also, I might become a methamphetamine addict.
Also, I spelled that without using spell check.
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
Steps on the barren desert valley ground,
I'd rather be in the alley.
I'd rather be in the alley with you.
Sun burnt rocks jut out at me,
They shake their fingers at me,
"You'll never get out, it's a dead end from here."
I remember sitting out under the sun,
I remember being under the sun on the roof,
And I remember screaming at the skies,
*" Mathematics has taught me nothing,
School was nothing but sociological lies!"*
I had my verbal reasoning skills,
I had a bottle of Adderall pills,
I had my quantum physical knowledge,
I've been down the road of metaphysics,
I even had foreign language skills.
Italian artistry doesn't help you here, no.
The coyote knows best,
The wildebeast and dachshund know better.
Animal supremacy, no.
Conscious human foreclosure of higher arcane intelligence,
If it ever yielded it's presence,
Jesus would've resurrected already.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
Here’s some Xanax for the anxiety caused by the Adderall that you got for not being able to focus as a side effect of the anti-depressants prescribed to you for the depression caused by a low nutrient, snake oil infused society.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 4:20 PM UTC
Pharmaceutical angels hover
in the space above my sleeping head
chanting slogans
they have been paid
to whisper in my ear.
“Keep it clean with Terbenafine.”
“You can fly on Abilify.”
“Everyone’s lean on Levothyroxine.”
“Go on a roll with Anastrazole.”
“You’ll get a thrill from Lisinopril.”
“There ain’t no reputin’ the bliss of Welbutrin.”
“Don’t be a geek. Take Pristiq.”
“Go far on Adderall XR.”
“if you want to rate, take Cypionate.”
I wake with a jolt
the neurons of my prefrontal cortex
already firing like machine guns of craving
for the treasure in my medicine chest
and I know everything is going to be fine,
just fine.
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 4:48 AM UTC
I’ve a general practitioner, a psychiatrist and a psychologist
(who’s leaving but I’ll panic about that later)
I’m on 4 different psych meds
Adderall, XR 25mg P.O.
(So I can be motivated, focus and concentrate), Daily
Klonopin, 0.5mg P.O.
(For panic attacks, social anxiety, generalized anxiety), As needed
(Translation:Constantly)
Buspirone, 10mg P.O. (For depression and generalized anxiety),
3 times daily – Useless
Remeron, 15mg P.O. (For depression, anxiety and insomnia),
Daily, at night – Only helps you sleep
Even with all that, I can barely get out of bed in the morning,
coffee’s no help
I can’t really sleep much, waking times a night,
sleeping restlessly if at all
Going to class is a nerve wracking nightmare – as is going out –
but I do it anyways
A panic attack surrounded by people is better than
solitary madness and cabin fever
Like a slave, to a handful of bitter little pills just barely keeping you afloat, unable to hack it alone
While everyone else seemingly can push on through life without them
Falling behind, despite the stupid little pills
Watching as the world goes on around you, spinning sickeningly
While you wish desperately to be normal,
with a million colliding thoughts in your head
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
anxiety: my heart wakes me up, tattooing irregular beats against
my ribs, pulse racing, breath shaking. i cannot tell
if this is real or psychosomatic. these days,
i think about death all the time,
no longer by suicide. now, i am
an accident waiting to happen,
fragile from years of misuse &
neglect. the shallow inhales
of my lungs tell me
i am not okay.
depression: this is a gray day. i swallow my meds even though
they take away my mania. so i drink black coffee until my mind
races itself in circles, chasing its tail like a rabid dog.
i keep the razors hidden in my sock drawer,
just in case.
anorexia: my ribs ****** forward from my skin again, the sharp
protrusion of my bones beginning to show through. i am eating
but drinking my weight in water
& mainlining caffeine to keep my metabolism high & my weight
low. i am still child-sized & i don't want to grow.
they lift me easily with their arms & marvel
at my featherweight body.
the compliments i get only make me
eat less.
self-harm: on the days when i am low, i trace
the silver stretch of scars scattered over my skin
with a yearning for a blade between my fingers
just one last time. i swear to you, the bleeding is over,
but i need to know
i am still brave
enough
to hold a sharp edge against my flesh
& press down,
hard.
addiction: a month ago,
i downed four adderall in one sitting,
luxuriating in the heady rush & lack of pain,
the quiet & the calm.
when i lived at home, i stole
my mother's vicodin & took the whole bottle.
i'm not sorry.
when the boy who only cared about ******* me
offered mdma for free,
i accepted, but i shouldn't have trusted him
to keep me safe,
blacking out on his kitchen
floor.
drink red wine to forget
my insecurity, inhale
thick, sweet smoke to feel
some semblance of happy,
drag on cigarettes
down to their filters
until i feel properly
alive.
all i want is to be better, but
where to begin?
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 9:59 AM UTC