Day One:
A voice speaks to me.
When you realize that being lost is so close to being found, you see a sea of family members plagued within the lineage of licentious newborns and hospital beds. You become yourself, a lisp.

Day Two:
Long ago in a city left unscorned he was torn, from the cokeheads and colorful regimes, angels sing long songs of separation anxiety and **** withdrawal.  I was torn from the deadbeats of supposed society and three day vicodin trips into my mind. So can you let me know when I get there? ‘Cause I left there running…I wonder, did someone ever tell you that two strangers could twist around your neck at beck and that three parked cars and seventeen lonely nights could haunt you for the rest of your faces.

Day Three:
Tell me of your drug induced hallucinations.

Day Four:
Wait. Hear. Can’t you listen to the relapse? Stop, think. No. gone. Left. Love. Return. My curious addiction. Go back into yourself and listen. Can’t you hear your soul call to me? It’s loud.

Day Five:
I remember prizes at the bottoms of cereal boxes, right before the net broke. Will you be first? Snap back to reality.
It’s dark in here. Wretch from me… I am crying, screaming,
haha! I’m melting inside!

Day Six:
By plucking her petals you do not gather the beauty of the flower, but the seed inside
Caked over in grief, we are not plates that match. But fools of folly caught in a sea of coke and disillusioned discord. Speed stands between directing and orders to death’s soldiers.

Day Seven:
The difference between God and his counterpart is that he makes exceptions!
Except me.

Day Eight:
Accept me!
Please.  
Wait.
No.
don’t slow,
speed.
I can only take so much forgiveness,
is a decision, and I cannot make it.
I am without it, leave me breathless.

Day Nine:
The angel of death waits
He comes for me, but I am running, finding, hiding my inner Nemo in the hands of oxycodon, privileged in the amenities of amphetamines.
I am tired of running!
Haggard.
Take away my hands, my restraints.
Let me feel
again.
Please.

Day Ten:
I am awake.
There is an apple in my field of vision.
Kiss it. Love it.
Take it to hedonism and back again.
But it knows too much.
So tell it everything will be ok.
It lives in epilepsy.
So placate it.
Resurrect my apocalypse.

tweakers tweakers everywhere.  there's barely room to stand.
little knots of junkies nod.  i think they're with the band.
ravers... rolling.  round and round.  chewing fruity gum.
cokeheads chatting. chatting chatty chats.  i feign i'm deaf and dumb.
stoners take it all by calm.  in need of nothing save visine.
drinkers drink.  until they puke.  get sad or just plain mean.
pill poppers pop to **** the pain.  or relieve life's daily stress.
remember!
you can always do a little more but not a little less.

The youth of our nation,
Modern civilization
Young people dying in every city
Reflections of their own self pity.

It's sickening...

Friends selling each other deadly drugs
Pillheads roaming around giving fake hugs
Cokeheads blowing out their mind
Potheads in search of their next find
Tweekers wigging out for no reason
Junkies living in the same dark season
Crackheads stealing even a cent
Addicts never paying rent
Mothers giving up their kids
Selling them like an auction for the highest bids
People ******* for their next fix
Prostitutes on every corner turning tricks

Next thing you know,
It's almost the end of the show.
You are broke, homeless, and full of disease
Can't wake, can't sleep, only cough and wheeze
Your body is aching
While family and friends' hearts are breaking.

All this wasted youth, for what,... another high
Just to get you by
Yet another day,
Should you live this way
You will next be seen six feet deep
Forever is your place to sleep.

It's just sickening...

All this wasted youth.
WAKE UP!

two.

two.

that is the number of times you ever called me beautiful, two time in eight months.
the first time we were making out in a field and the second was after the first time we had ***, after you took my virginity and I remember I was more shocked by the words you had just spoke than the act we had just committed because it had been so long since I heard you tell me that.

my thumb and my index finger can mark the number of times you told me I was beautiful.

two.

that is the number of parties I went to with you.

seven.

that’s the number of months I was vegan until I went to your party and ate some ****** homemade pizza and only felt a little bad due to the fact I was higher than the stars I compared you to and I thought maybe you’d be more inclined to get back with me if I was easier to please.

three.

three is the number of months after that party that it took you to realize I was no longer vegan, despite you having been around me before that as I ate whoopie pies and ice cream. it came to you when I offered you a cookie as we stood in the pub ( after I had told you for precisely the eighth time that I was done with you ) and I was tripping on shrooms for the second time and about two hours before you approached me and I asked if you’d like to enjoy a cookie, I had cried in a car about you while someone did coke next to me.

you asked if you could hug me and I replied OF COURSE as if you DESERVED to and I KNEW I shouldn’t have let you because I remembered pain EVERY TIME I was NEAR YOU and I remembered you not talking to me for a month and thinking it was okay to do and I remembered never getting your attention when I needed it most,

I remembered, I remembered, I remembered, I remembered

I remembered how you made my stomach feel like a tidal wave and I remembered how you jammed your hand into my chest and clenched my heart in your callused fist and I remember two months after we broke up, we started talking again and you kept telling me soon, soon, soon, you always had **** to figure out, but soon baby, we’ll be back together

soon

soon my world would spin again, soon my life would have meaning again, soon my stars and planets would be aligned once again but STILL you had your fist gripped tightly around my heart

SOON you’d be over the girl you ****** and fell in love with two weeks after we broke up

SOON not now but SOON you’d be the answer to the nights where I cried myself to sleep

SOON.

but soon never came; not in the way I expected anyways. I always thought that two years and twenty years from now I’d be gone, in a different state and I’d be driving down the road and suddenly break into tears thinking about you and the heartbreak you caused me.

but I broke from your grip. my heart pounded and pounded before it burst and the force finally broke your fist and the tidal waves settled and I’m not in cars with cokeheads anymore and I tell you NO when you ask to hug me now

I AM FREE OF YOU.

my future is free of you.

MY SOON HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU.

and god, it feels so ******* good.