"benadryl" poems
Nobody chooses a bottle willingly. A pill or a loaded gun, in the end it's all the same.
We're waiting, still, hiding. In our holiest of places:
The kitchen and the office. A quiet sideways-slide into the last available stall in a casino washroom. The seat is still warm.
Teachers don't tell kids that drugs are bad. They told us that we were the evil ones for deep-throating a bottle of ***** every Friday.
They didn't know what we had to go home to.
Cancer sounded better than living past 20, and that's the thing that they'll never comprehend:
There's always a reason underneath overdose.
The only time a drug is bad is when you can't afford it, and you're sitting alone in a fetal position crying in need for a chemical bliss that you've caressed over and over; a blanket covering memories. Feelings. Emotions.
The only time a drug is bad is when you're too **** poor to grab anything better than a box of Benadryl and a dimebag of shake.
The only time a drug is bad is when you're anything but rich an' white and pretty, because then you're not addicted, you're having fun with the price of 1,000 a week at an all-inclusive rehab resort.
Drugs don't discriminate, but people sure as Hell do.
There's always a reason underneath overdose.
There's always a reason underneath.
There's always a reason.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 1:15 PM UTC
Nothings how it looks in fact, maybe the opposite
People say I'm energetic
When I'm fighting for consciousness
Downed NyQuil to solve my imperfections
Took Benadryl to sleep
Drugs make chatter over the back and forth banter of boredom
And action
A trip to the hospital
Affects the people to care for a minute
Hallucinogens fade, but this music it stays
No 3G left **** it lets sing
Words slurred
eyes red
I don't give a **** spread love
Acceptance
And tears of joy
The ones that run over the face of a baby boy
Mama's proud
Baby you're so smart!
You're gonna be so successful!
Yeah I remember those days
Now its nicotine sticks on my lips and E's for my mom to brag about
They think I'm lost
Am I?
Testing to be done
Society approved pills to pop
And a letter from my aunt
Words spread like dye in water
I've dropped
Down from the heaven of the early years
Lucifer can maneuver his way around the city unnoticed
A spy who tells lies to himself and greets the people as equal
Human again
I'd like to be
All I want to do is live!
But a life's money, family, and a plan
Floaters get flushed
Couch potatoes get crushed
Lazy *****
Ha
They just get fat
Like these joints everybody wants to roll
**** is for beginners but what happens to the pros?
No trophy for the taking
No stack of gold
Just a massive headache
And dependence
Diet coke doesn't count
My sis puts her heart on her sleeve
Me
I don't even think I have one
No wait it's up my ***
**** me good **** me long
That only love is what turns me on
If not
Keep out
Of my head
Or
Switch, light
Too god **** bright to illuminate
these white walls I'm hired to paint
24hrs, 365 days a year, until the day it’s complete
Avoidance
Births time from time
Cuts wrists to elbow
Show how mellow
I can be
Let me cope
Every days a new day
Born today die tomorrow
Next day
Wake up
Look in the mirror and decide
what you'd like to see
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 4:22 AM 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
empty water bottles everywhere
cheerios on the floor
I can never keep track of myself
or the food I bring out of the kitchen
I'm worse than a bachelor
& my Benadryl is almost gone
I need it to sleep
sleep and to dream
so maybe my nothing
will be something
that it seems
I cannot stop obsessing over
how lonely I feel
in my new married life
I feel better talking to people
I barely know
than I do my own husband
they say the first year
is the hardest
but I think I've just always felt
this way
when your heart clings to something
you can't have
the feeling never quite frays
never quite
erodes in its natural form
I find myself daydreaming about
things that don't happen
true love that doesn't come true
romance is not abundant in these parts
chivalry is carved on a tombstone
a few blocks from my
apartment
& I'm lucky to get a kiss on
the cheek whenever
I walk by
I want to believe that
there is some man out there
who would build me a bouquet of
wildflowers
& play me some classic rock
ballad about eternity
maybe he lives
in this house
maybe he lives
at all
Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
So, what if I told you
reality is the dream.
Are you prepared for the
NIGHTMARE?
Do you want to wake up?
Yes, the key is to open your mind and wake up and become one of the socially conscious higher ups in the anarchy we call
Society,
But with great power comes great responsibility.
Honestly, do you believe in the prophecy that our generation can
RISE THROUGH ADVERSITY
Become the masterpiece that God envisioned when he created this tapestry of writers and athletes?
Actually, better yet
Do you believe in the ghost of the past that rest uncomfortably in it's sanctuary?
Are we the Golden Age or are we gilded
We're livid, vivid, driven toward a goal that looks more like a sign telling us we're going the wrong way.
A wicked testimony.
So we're faced with these two options
To wake up or remain dormant
To be a pawn or be a king
To live on our knees or die on our feet
And I don't blame you if you choose eternal slumber
Because we all love to sleep and it's ironic because that's what we look forward to to during each and every day we spend in this dream --
I mean, reality
But, if you choose to lay off the benadryl and take a dose of this "real world"
You may find that missing key you've been looking for.
Or, the glass can be empty and you find nothing but misery and insomnia.
Again, the choice is yours and even if it may SCARE you
Dying on your feet means you learned to walk.
Isn't that the first thing we learn to do?
So maybe our parents actually taught a life lesson
(to our extreme disbelief)
And do know a thing or two
But still, we are the iPhone generation
And they have no clue how to tweet anti government conspiracies and
scroll for hours on tumblr
So what do they know
For all we know they may still be asleep and in the same cheap hotel room as us
So is there to trust
When we dream of gamemasters loving torturing the lower classes and pitting them against each other in death matches?!
Take this match and spark the cowards
Bring light to the revolution and set ablaze the darkening towers
Let's have lucid dreams and rebuild the democracy
Dreams and reality become synonymous and merge into each other to form a new entity and we shall call it
GOD? YOUR MASTERPIECE!
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
It was a fun day,
childhood memories were being made.
My happiness showing across my face.
So many questions I had,
so many I asked.
I see pink.
Another fun-filled day.
Dad made my favorite dinner.
My excitement was bubbling.
I guess to them it was troubling.
I see pink.
Today was rainy.
I went outside.
I think I'm in trouble.
She yells "Get inside!"
She had almost gotten my hair dried.
I can tell she is annoyed.
I see pink.
They didn't care about the smile on my little face.
I guess they couldn't keep up with my pace.
I see pink.
I want it now.
I barely even begin to ask,
she is headed to the cabinet.
Plastic shot glass.
Two tablespoons later,
I see pink.
Dream, dream, dream.
Off to sleep.
Thanks for the pink.
A three year old girl who gets a thrill from fairytales.
They say I have to much energy for someone so little.
All they want is for me to sit still.
So they pour me some more Benadryl.
I see pink.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:15 AM UTC
Dining Hall
The day that Darwin dies
you call me at lunch
surrounded by raucous boys
who would ridicule your tears
Milk
You’re downing a glass
as I sip my wine
Separated by years
and words you don’t know
Our preference in beverage
is the space between us
The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack
Lullaby redhead croons my fingers bend three at a time choking out two-syllable death trap.
Constellating
Sandwiched between
fresh books
spines not yet cracked
Secretive soulmates
sharing espresso-scented
pecks on strawberry lips
Hush Hush
Hands that aren’t yours
hold back my hair
dampened
tears shed
over words you threw
shattering
showering me with shards
of the way you once felt
Day Long Marriage
Air-conditioned summers
bare skin on leather couches
your hand resting
on blue ruffled *******
Happy New Year
Crouching
behind closet doors
your voice
at once comfort and affront
I’ll forget the words you say
still clutching my phone
wishing it was you
The Other Emily
Purest form of you and me
Benadryl-induced delusions
refusing sleep
exhausted
warm and doe-eyed
in the glow of your fondness
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
Where daffodils
Perfume the breeze,
And chirps and trills
Concert the trees,
And nectar spills
From mouths of bees,
I find my thrills,
My fun, my ease.
And though it ills
I rather please
To take green hills
With allergies.
Benadryl pills?
No thanks: I’ll sneeze.
^ ^
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
she took the gun
loaded with benadryl
pulled the trigger
& prayed she could
sleep a ******* fantastic
lovely
dreamless
night
she'll pray for
the opposite
before she closes
her eyes
naturally
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 2:49 AM UTC
It crawls underneath your skin.
Distracts you from your friends
from your life.
You can’t help but scratch it.
Your friends try to stop you.
They pull your hands away
the skin on your wrist,
arms,
and legs,
are already red from your nails
they don’t want your skin like paper to tear.
They don’t want to see your blood drip out like paint off a brush.
You can’t help it
that itch is so demanding
it demands to be scratched
no matter where it travels to.
Your wrist becomes bright red with marks from your nails.
Your legs have red splotches over them from digging your nails
into your skin harder to itch through your jeans.
Your arms have red splotches traveling up them
and under the sleeve of your shirt.
Your face is sensitive from your nails digging into it so often.
You can’t win!
The itch doesn’t go away no matter how long you scratch.
It drives you insane.
It won’t leave,
I’m going insane.
The itch is so persistent!
I think I might need some calamine lotion…
Maybe some Benadryl...
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 9:01 AM UTC
Benadryl and chill.
Anti hystamine dreaming.
Pre meditated drug dealing.
Over inflateted egos.
Boys with Legos
for brains.
Hussling at gas station.
Sending little paper parcels
to wide doe eyes.
Getting high is more fun, anyways.
Most days,
I'd rather play pretend.
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
I have been craving that which I know will make me sick.
Already,
The mere thought has my stomach roiling,
Insides twisting in displeasure,
Heart pounding out its discomfort,
Head aching in protest;
My fever keeps climbing
But I can't take a hint,
For it seems there's no proper immune response
For desire,
No thorough little antibodies to drive the thought away,
Just a full body reaction,
A rebellion of the senses,
Near anaphylaxis;
It would seem that I'm allergic to you.
But Benadryl and epinephrine are of no use to me
Since it's this wanting that's the problem,
Stumbling over myself just to see you smile,
All the while tying my intestines into impossible knots.
I know that you're no good for me,
But like a dizzy, desperate ******
I can't cut myself off,
Can't force myself to stop chasing you
Though you cause my airways to constrict.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 6:49 PM UTC
We're a world and generation set on depersonalization
Where everything is on social media but everyone is scared to socialize.
We all promise we "just need to vent" but is it venting or is it depression?
"He loves me, he's just tired. Its not abuse, she's just tired. I'm not okay, I'm really tired."
We all need to stop and chill without the help of benadryl.
But we need the drugs to feel normal.
A normal that they tell us to be
on the covers of our magazine
When we are all medicated to achieve the status quo
We can't learn from our mistakes if we can't remember them.
Instead of dealing with the guilt,
we soak in a bath as if the lavender suds will rinse away our ****** personality
We do it nightly and call it self care.
And the self care we really need is lunch that isn't Oreos and to join therapy.
We fill the empty hole inside of us with cigarettes and ***** and food
And we don't even know we're empty because our parents are empty too
And the only ones who can recognize the absense
Are the same ones telling us to work harder to buy our first house and car before the age of 25
When really, we haven't even settled on what we want to be when we grow up
Our grandparents and parents beg us to have babies because "I'm not getting any younger."
But I'm quickly getting older Dad, so shut up and let me drink until I pass out without worrying about how much my child will have to heal from, just like I'm healing now with Bacardi 151.
Its a cycle and there's no handle bars
Celebrities writing songs and movies, a fill-in-the-blank series that mimics a horoscope
To drag in the masses with feelings of unity when really we have no idea what our brother went through when we were laying on our uncle's bed at midnight at 5 years old.
They want us to be the same except for when its not convenient, and suddenly the children of rich people are to be scorned but they hate the black people who hate the black rich people
And its another cycle, the chain popped off and the brakes are our feet
Just like when we were kids except now we have no shoes on and we are rolling down a hill that stops at a lake
And our empty parents forgot to teach us how to swim.
Its 2019 now, when will America be great in the first place?
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 1:01 AM UTC
They say it takes 13 days to form a habit. That's
how long it's been since I threw my heart into a
box of condoms. I called upon the ghost of my
reincarnation. He bought me flowers and thanked
me for my patients. I drove my car into the hospital
to find a regular doctor. One that won't sew my eyes
together. I need to stop taking benadryl, it ***** with
my emotions. I've decided to put things into the holes
in my apparition. I'll wear a ****** whenever I feel
like it. I don't take orders,
I don't need your permission.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 12:02 PM UTC
If I just keep running,
fast..as fast can be.
All the worries stalking,
Won't catch up to me.
Wake up bright and early,
Hit the door as soon,
Run a million errands,
All before 12 noon.
Play the music really loud,
To help increase my pace.
Just act nonchalantly when,
They look me in the face.
Clean the house with earbuds in,
Dusting every nook.
Let the cell just vibrate,
Never stop to look.
Take a Benadryl exhausted,
Strip off clothes and then,
Fall asleep with head in hands,
Wake to do it all over again.
Aug 15, 2010
Aug 15, 2010 at 5:45 PM UTC
One ear listening to the rain register its grievances with the window,
The other hearing the soothing murmur of your voice
Traveling from some insignificant place
Wrapping around my body like a favorite sweater
Or a dose of benadryl.
For a moment I am pulled away from myself
By the striking thought that somewhere
Most certainly
There is an alternate universe where I am irrevocably
All-consumingly in love with you.
The thought makes me smile, lazy and sly as a cat.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
This phenomena that harms me, unrealized for so long
get through it and don't think about it
practiced that way as a child
like a birth mark, marking genetic weakness
Present physically with no deep thought involved
Time and Demand made its way over in an ambulance truck
over and over again
because Life wanted to live
Benadryl you have always been my best friend
giving me the grace to overcome it
Focused now, I think about your progress
a **** in the garden relentless it grows
Attentive now, to aspects of this changing and moving
towards a solution
Aware of it's possibility
Great reason to believe this question will lead me to the largest
expansion I am meeting to know
How can I stop poisoning myself?
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 1:38 AM UTC
Sleepless nights and tired eyes
ring in the morning sun.
There's not much feeling inside,
just another lonely night for one.
It's easy to cry in the dark,
with air so cold it cuts deep.
With the pain you feel inside
so intense, the AM light just bleeds.
Ambien, NyQuil, Benadryl, Lunesta:
name a drug you haven't tried.
Nothing you swallow or choke down
can help you escape your mind.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
This medication is called Trilafon or Perphenazine.
When I took it, I had the worst nightmare I've ever seen.
Life is something to be cherished.
But in December of 1996, I almost perished.
After my doctor wrote the prescription, I took the Trilafon.
If I hadn't been taken to the emergency room, I'd be gone.
Trilafon helps some people but it makes other people sick.
After taking this medication, I learned that I'm allergic.
I'd like to say it was all just a dream but it was real.
The doctors in the ICU saved me with Benadryl.
I foamed at the mouth and it felt like the Trilafon was burning out my brain.
I hope nobody else experiences this pain.
My doctor ticked me off when he wanted me to continue taking Trilafon with a side effect pill.
There was no way in Hell I'd keep taking it after being so ill.
Now I take a different medication and all is well.
It's much better to take Risperadol or Seroquel.
I was only twenty-five in 1996 and that would've been far too young to go.
If a doctor wants to prescribe you Trilafon, please say no.
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 8:35 AM UTC
Suddenly I was tired
I don't know if it was the benadryl or your hand in my hair
But I was afraid to fall asleep because I would have less time with you
If these few seconds I forced myself awake were all we had left,
You were magic
I drank your skin like a cold beer or timer that had almost counted down
The air your heat touched was my entire world,
One hand brushing my cheek
And the other lazily draped across my body
I didn't have to tell you I love you because you felt it through my flesh
All the buttons came undone and you were still standing
Somehow unchanged
Somehow still soft and beautiful and safe
I drifted off.
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 8:44 PM UTC
*I am Benadryl
I am a comfort for your sick heart
I am an excess for when you’re looking for a good time.
I am there when you’re sad and need comfort and rationale
Or kissing so you can feel 3 teaspoons of Something New
When all I wanted to do was push you against the wall and show you
I am more than a dumb drug
But I’ll subdue what I felt, for your sake, under my wishy-washy pink self
I am a prize to be won
Than left in the medicine cabinet until spring rolls around again
Or I am a lie to be told
When the suggested dosage hangs too high over your head
I am a status symbol
A fun party game
But I am more than a metaphor
More than the sum of your stories
Still you see Benadryl*
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
My eyes are buzzing
And colors flood my senses
And I'm suddenly blinded
By the the calming disassociation
That being livid sometimes gives me.
I don't take klonipon
Anymore,
Though my doctor still insists
On writing prescriptions for it.
And don't shove down my throat
How bad she thinks she had it,
Because she doesn't know
The half of it
And she doesn't even know
How this world works.
So I'll get myself
A glass of water,
Swallow down my anxiety and tears
Along with two Motrin and a couple Benadryl.
Wait for the colored noises
To calm down.
Rub at my eyes and ears,
Waiting for the ringing from my internal screaming
To stop.
And I see in blurs
And I hear in colors.
And so I will listen to Modern Baseball's album "Sports"
For the umpteenth time
To calm me down.
My wrists are wet from the ice
I would press to my veins,
And my skin is crawling
So I'll try not to touch anything
Besides my fingers to the keyboard.
I gave you the option
To love me or leave me.
And you chose the former,
So I somehow figure
That's the final decision.
And despite all efforts
Against us,
I know for a fact that we'll make it.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
I'm addicted to the song soft quell of your voice when you're gone
Even after stopping breathless chasing the trail of echoes as it is lost
I wish you'd just, just give it one chance for love
I want the robust reach and span of your hands from above
But feeling up at night I grasp still air
Turning to one side and then the other
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
Declan Shapiro had a switchblade. One day he didn’t go to school and got really good at not knowing why his father shot 9 nine people he had never met, and then shot himself when the cameras arrived.
He mastered the basics. And these were the basics. Then you work your way down. Got it?
So Declan Shapiro stole a car. Stealing glances at this point just didn’t have the Juice. He parked the car in the trunk of the car. His genius was to drive it off a cliff a few miles outside of town, with a brick and belt strapped to the wheel and the stick. It was so beautiful to feel something that it nearly killed him to thumb a ride into town and leave all those emotions on the edge. He was home by 9:35 pm and that’s what he told the cops. There was meatloaf with a ketchup smiley face next to some mashed potatoes on a paper plate just being the worst sort of super fan.
When Tanner Percy McQueen lost her virginity on purpose, the purpose was a thing that words were powerless to express, and yet she will never forget the premise. It was like keeping track of every fork in a lie to avoid getting caught in one, with all the panache of up close magic. Her room was a mess because she was looking for her loose change. A girl's gotta eat. Her mother, apparently, had to drink all the Benadryl and watch Animal Planet. Tanner Percy McQueen got her **** together and hopped on her bike with the banana seat all the boys wanted to be. She got where she was going before she realized her heart was broken and this was the place that didn’t care to talk to her about it. It was just noise and pills and beautiful monsters. They had hot dogs you could get for 2 dollars and she had 2 dollars so…. She bought some Ecstasy instead and told Stacy Mathers she was fat and that she wanted to kiss her on the mouth but it hurts when she wakes up and the world is still there and that she got this bracelet from some creep in a parking lot who never even tried to make a pass at her. She had no idea it glowed in the dark.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC