"depressant" poems
Woke up late from a nightmare
disguised as a daydream;
the mediocrity of life burning
at the bottom of my throat
from last night.
Failing organs and trying
to age gracefully
to keep dignity.
Dying every day.
Ten foot sunflower out back
like an anti-depressant that makes you ponder suicides.
Ten foot sunflower can't find the light
but reaches out like there's something out there.
Ten foot sunflower can't run away, can't take the rain,
can't be desperate or in pain.
Ten foot sunflower has peace of mind through emptiness.
I woke up with canaries out my window
and broken organs in my head.
So, people tell me I talk too much,
and I find it hard to disagree.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:45 PM UTC
I think when I first saw you,
I swallowed you like my anti depressant pills,
and you settled into my stomach.
When I first saw you,
A thousand seconds in time wrapped themselves in silk,
And became cocoons of memories.
Turning into butterflies,
they fly around in my chest.
When I see your smile,
when I hear your laugh,
when I remember the stars in your eyes.
When I first saw you,
I wanted to breathe in all of the air of the earth.
Because you...
You took my breath away.
When I first saw you,
I wanted to live.
For the first time in my life..
I wanted to live.
But minutes turned to seconds on our pocket watches,
and you sat on the hillside of my insides with a gun.
You sat there and shot down all my butterflies.
And now..
I don't want to live.
And I don't want to love.
I want to die.
You took love from me.
You stamped at it with your feet like cigarette ashes but I'm still burning.
You grabbed me by my throat and whispered,
"I love you."
And as you left me there dying,
with my last breath I apologized for getting blood on your coat.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
tired and depressed
lost and abandoned
no love
no hope
until one day i stumbled on a drink that made me feel alive
don't let the name depressant fool you
it slows my reactions the thoughts
the voices that tell me i'm worthless
alcohol was the solution i have been searching for
even better it was always there
always there.... and if i drink a little more the high lasts a little longer
i was all alone and hurt
until alcohol came and clouded everything
it was the escape i needed
and that is how i was made an alcoholic
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 10:18 AM UTC
When I was a youth
I thought people were better than me
because they were
richer than me,
had more status than me,
and were more handsome than me;
but now that I’m wiser
I ask: Are they joyful and happy?
A rich man
may be driving a splendid red Ferrari
but is he joyful and happy
or is he on anti-depressant drugs?
A government official
may have status and authority
but is he joyful and happy
or is he on anti-depressant drugs?
A movie actor
may be famous and handsome
but is he joyful and happy
or is he on anti-depressant drugs?
Jul 31, 2019
Jul 31, 2019 at 11:02 PM UTC
That which Boils Toils
the product of my affection
May I make an interjection,
I may be at a spike,
my mind may be filled with spite,
and that's right, I am more than probably,
more than likely
overly hormonally irrationally irate.
Instigated, mind you, by your subterfuge,
incessant, noncovalent, depressant,
actions of will will make me seethe.
For my seething wreathing rampage feels so good.
Too good,
ice that cascades down your back on a stark hot summer day
The ice, tiny razors cutting tracks down your back.
Racing beads toward the finish line.
And it feels sublime
The pain of the chill counters the pain of the heat.
And that's how I feel when we meet
at that place where I become a monster.
My chill blown westward
counters the visceral heat in my breast.
That heat that makes me want to beat sticks and drums
and call in my army
It alarms me
That's why I whisper
And shy away
And sulk, because the Hulk is who I'm keeping at bay
My enemy is not the one with eyes searching for me,
but my Jealousy who is at war within me.
Aug 11, 2012
Aug 11, 2012 at 6:38 AM UTC
For the past few days, my friend has been sick.
He hasn't been able to eat or drink without anything staying down.
It's gotten worse.
He's been stuck in the bed.
He was asked if he wanted to go to the hospital,
and he said no.
I feel like if I would have known,
He would be alive.
It could have only taken one conversation to change his mind,
Now he's dead,
and I want to go with him.
My friend Chloe sent me that in a text message.
She's going through depression.
She blames herself for her best friends death,
Because she couldn't get in contact with him.
She hasn't been at school for 4 days.
She's not answering anyones phone calls,
So I text her:
Chloe,
Now i'm in your shoes.
Your'e my best friend.
Don't slay your soul because a part of your life has disappeared,
I still need you,
Like you needed him.
Even though he is no longer here,
I can be your comfort zone.
This feeling should not choke hold your final decision,
Visions of your grave should not flash before your eyes,
Your'e only 17 and your epitaph should not be created yet.
Don't cut your life-line because his phone line is disconnected,
I'll be at the other end.
Instead of popping pills, lets pop conversations everyday,
I'll be your anti-depressant.
Life is too short for you to cut your life short because your best friend is dead.
I walked in your shoes,
Now it's time for you to do the same for me.
Tighten the laces,
and see how it feels when your best friend tells you she wants to die.
Chloe,
I was able to have this conversation with you.
I pray that it changes your mind because,
Losing a best friend,
Over losing a best friend,
Isn't worth it.
May 18, 2011
May 18, 2011 at 4:31 PM UTC
Love is a drug.
It's a depressant, stimulant & hallucinagen.
Love is an anxiolytic & antipsychotic,
It's a mood stabilizer & antidepressant.
Love is the treatment for my instability.
So where is my psycho-pharmacologist?
Where's my script for rose-colored glasses?
Doesn't he see that I need my Klonopin;
My Zoloft is running low.
My Haldol is depleted & my Adderal is out.
I'm shaking with anxiety
My depression's dragging my down
To the depths I just escaped.
I'm seeing things that shouldn't be.
And I'm running in circles, too afraid to stop.
Where is my psycho-pharmacologist?
Why won't he give me my daily dose,
One simple touch to give me sanity?
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 12:25 PM UTC
We felt as if we’d been born in the desert
Passing shoelace factory prostitutes
Veering memories of Crab Nebula up-skirts
& Slowly obtained convoluted attitudes
“(In our sleep) We let the lizards lick our teeth”:
The grackle chatter from Four Hand Weaver
Met the ears of Guest, who’d arrived in Portsmeth
Riding on deep banjo drones from within the ether
What else can words be but propellants?
They are TLC to mad minds of the 90’s
Coaxing the Guest out of hell with mad chants
& we, the kids, following blindly
“He tried to get me to turn off the electricity
Chanting Southeast Asian Countries with Four Hands
Somehow part of an insane Sun/Moon allegory”
Cries Morgie Saturday morning &
We saw a vision: the Guest up in a crescent
Cast down from the sky and into the sea
Cascading over into a flooding depressant
& cut open the fat man who whispered of banshees
As his steaming intestines float down by the riverside
The boys were passing jolly jokes & joints
“They’ll never figure out how to catch a bride
When they’ve forgotten how to find the celestial point!”
Screeched the Guest with his candle strap
Attached to his banjofrigerator filled with Game Fuel
“It’s in my veins, it’s in my blood like a death cap!”
No longer just a Kentucky Gentleman covered in drool
All in all, a teacher, a preacher, a joke
A gravel eater, unlike the lizards underground
“I don’t eat dirt! That’s a lie I’d never invoke
Lizards eat dirt & I ain’t like that crowd!”
Men are lizards & lizards are men
“& I ain’t a lizard no way, no how!
That’s the truest fact there ever has been
Aside from something being seriously wrong with me"
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 10:23 AM UTC
A wave of people who all suffer from depression's undercurrent leans over me until gravity pushes the water over my head and I drown in the depressive maelstrom of lost, distraught family members with the same weak psyche which I suffer from. Only the dollhouse owners can live a picture-perfect life where everything is antibacterial and anti-depressant while we get jammed between the walls until we can no longer scream for help and tears become our only weapon. The moisture from the rivers that sourced in our eyes penetrates into the walls and seeps into the floor, then mold and mildew infects this otherwise perfect dollhouse. I'd rather drown in depression than live in this false cardboard house with drawers and cabins filled with pills and where no one knows who takes what and why there is constantly bought more and more even when the pills tumble out of all the doors. I'm waiting for a tsunami, which can split the dollhouse that I call my home, hoping the walls detaches and the pills flush away.
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 4:26 PM UTC
When my head is pounding & my heart is throbbing,
when it seems like a good idea to drink my sorrows away till the next morning.
When the constant pain just starts to get worse every time you cross my mind.
It’s not midnight sadness anymore,
it’s morning & afternoon sadness that i can never get over.
You were my anti-depressant & now that you are gone
I crave you more than anything & i’m sadder than I ever were.
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 12:52 AM UTC
Ignorant; not a care in the world (~)
Holy socks drag on cracked sidewalks
She had a pink shirt,
Or what seemed like it was once pink
She wore a smile & talked to her friend
I never saw him, but I’m sure he’s nice
I swear, her jeans never came with holes,
She’s too young to sport that fashion
Her face was the moon, not the cheesy one,
but pale & distant
Her hair, matted and knotty like dad’s unused
twine ball sitting in his toolbox
Did she have a brother?
Where was he?
I’m sure that unclothed Barbie in her hand needed a Ken
(~)
Reclined with their hands dangling over ashtrays,
where the only entity in their mind calling for their attention
is a liver-punching depressant.
Where eyes open for another hit,
and close to the cries of their children
Tonka trucks make snow angels in ash covered carpets,
Walls inhale secondhand sadness; stained with the tears of neglect,
Unmade beds and unfolded clothes shower their unpaid apartment,
Eviction notices pinned to the fridge with
crayon drawings of “daddy”,
Her request for another beer echoes the empty room
& it crosses her mind
“where the **** is she?”
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 8:38 PM UTC
Without my abuse
Who am I now
When drugs were my muse
Was I ever talented
Or just creative in addiction
I traded my emotions
For an anti depressant prescription
I want to be heard
I want my words to mean something more
than scribbles on a page
Or a hobby when I’m bored
There’s a message in my madness
If only I could see it myself
I’m in a tea cup spinning
Tossing fake news in a wishing well
Apr 9, 2023
Apr 9, 2023 at 5:40 AM UTC
I am in this adolescent phase
slumming through a depressant haze
plagued by these incessant days
smothered in their florescent glaze
I've had enough. I’ve had enough
screams the boy who has nothing to dream for
wake me up, wake me up
dreams the boy who has nothing to scream for
We all want what we never acquire
we all reject what should inspire
we have tarnished we should admire
in these day, these days our most dire
break down the wall, break down the wall
just to see to the other side
take on the fall, take on the fall
at least to say you've tired
I am in this adolescent phase
but I wish to be no longer
and with these incessant days
I can only plan to get stronger
Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 2:40 AM UTC
I'm every rho you know in alphabet rhyme football
every proof patterned in logic that you'd measured utmost to every new fall
at every fit you'd know you're the number one of profit of rage
having perfection to perfect what i am like being the true prophet of rage,
I'll get at you birth heavy like genius, having you walking with peg legs, as calculation wind blown like every pin known true like it's been age
mixing with my mics you'd think i was truly bald
when actuality you're singing with the control of my voice as time newly halts
not knowing hindsight, i'm now informing my women what the u in **** as the mimicking fault
slippin ************ thats why you're face lacks
bo legged at everytime you'd think i didn't know as you get your face jackED
murderin while a professional wrestler i had you employed and now before you, you embrace jack
**** with my bald *** of growth, it's just that fact of being me when at that has your race blacked
women know and men of woe is sorrow receiver catching your space MACKED
who'd ever say that ******* with you all like you could ever get me arrested
another attempt will give me back the sleep you jacked in me when i'm a natural depressant
i'll expose that my wife made you and now you're without legs
tryin to sing with a guitar like you're singing without pegs
'difference is strength when i return as mediocre
i'll tell you know that i jacked you up so you know that life's the owner.
i'll bring you back to when i was born, that would be the age of the brown at '82, jacked them all like if i was in the back of the discovered future exists parallel like you ever knew like how I proved anew,
like my wack smile i gave you to have you know i owned yours as duck rapper interoggation like your *** that proof of scent you're drag like having your *** to think now that you're cooking food.
you're cooking while every chief is now overlooking the passiveness, like how every german hybrid british will have to have you as i move near
feel rhyme as i have you feel time, woe wish now what you couldn't now know that my women own time to have every man to know that both sides know fear
every discovery is everything that i hold dear
**** what you all are cuz what might is that sight as all in are known peers
majority of chaos inferiority as the majority known how which is what you not've known like how they hold on is what i hold all to known dear
actual is obvious to have you all at blank stag actual wrestler like you ever even owned deer.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC
My stomach is a lake of red wine and pills that are supposed to make me feel better about my life.
They didn't.
My hands vibrate and clench themselves into fists that are sometimes full of my own hair.
My eyes are heavy and decorated by deep purple half circles from lack of sleep.
But
Sometimes my stomach is filled with butterflies,
and I silently hope they don't drown.
Occasionally my hands are in another pair of hands.
They're held like a prize.
Some nights my eyelids are kissed lightly to sleep.
My pupils dilate from the drugs,
and from that boy's love.
The white circles I swallowed every morning are supposed to make me feel better about life,
but I don't think any scientist, pharmacist, doctor
ever once anticipated the thought of another human being like him.
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
Lost
In a world where Instagram likes and thigh gaps,
Blur the line between people with ambition,
And narcissistic wannabe’s,
Lost
In a world where my sexualtiy is determined by the color of my shorts,
Lost
In a world where individuality is praised, until you show it,
Then it’s swallowed,
Like the low grade anti-depressant you take every night just to become a little less of you and little more of them,
Lost in hell
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 12:08 AM UTC
You sat beside me and spoke so sweetly
Let your hands run up my back ever so discreetly
I felt you dancing along my vertebrae
To the tunes of your own words that mould like clay
It took all of me to lift my sleeves
And show you my scars, the reason why everyone leaves
You titled your head to get a better view
Pointed out every dark depressant hue
Then you let your tongue slip
To tell me they're not the wreckage of skin, shadow and ship
That they're not remotely close to how bad they could be
Little did you know how much those scratches mean to me
You spoke of a girl you once knew
Like a Broadway play acting on cue
Mine were nothing compared to hers
In your words, mine are like nicks from spurs
You left me blowing in an empty breeze
While I whirl around like branches falling from trees
Nicks and cuts becoming apparent
My chest transforming transparent
Now I sit curled in a blood soaked bed sheet
Unwillingly trying to compete
Keeping my bones warm
While emulating thoughts swarm
To think you were going to be the one to make my bed
To think you were going to be the place to rest my head
As if I don't hate my inflections enough
You turned into a wolf and puffed and huffed
Blowing me down like a house made of straw
Then you sat back and laughed as I crawled
Letting the stones cut my upper thigh
You asked me what it feels like to die
I told you that it feels a lot like this
And those tiny little nicks shouldn't be dismissed
Because every wound bleeds
It's a part of sufferings deed
And soon enough they'll bleed you dry
By then it sure won't help to cry
You will be the death of me
And only then will you see
That those nicks and cuts mean so much to me
And that they are as bad as they could be
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 4:18 AM UTC
and my life fell apart before my eyes
crashed and burned at my feet
the pain wore a clever disguise
and in the end i accepted defeat
hold your tongue as i escape
i run away as always
my mind prolonging my fate
as my conscience wonders down empty hallways
i accepted but did not face
this sentence that is all my own
the loneliness i will hardly embrace
as it seems this is how im condoned
so i blame you and sometimes myself
but this is so adolescent
your only human, just yourself,
and now my only depressant.
Jan 25, 2010
Jan 25, 2010 at 11:29 AM UTC
you're a cns depressant i
knew from the moment i met you cause
i remember tasting you before:
the bottle of white
***
i stole from my mother like
fire and bitterness and
damp cloth across my mouth
drank you dry and
felt a little less volatile
fire fighting fire no room for hurt when i can just
lie here
and count every eye as it closes i
am argus:
all-seeing, hundred-eye
and everything i try to protect
is stolen when my eyes
close
{scatter my eyes on feathers
and never let them shut again}
deep draughts of you i
remember
your taste
and the way my skin buzzes and mind numbs
when you burn my throat.
you're a cns depressant and i,
the loneliest child on the west coast you thought
the california scene
was supposed to be
brighter than this
but i've lived here all my life and let me tell you:
every morning is
chill grey skies
and fog
that tastes tonic
without the gin, or
to put it differently:
everything i don't need not
fire just
damp chill
{i'm starting to think that
every california love story
is set in death valley because here
the ocean is cold in the height of summer
and the streets are empty at 5 am when i decide maybe
i should stop
writing
and make sure the world is still there}
and for me,
a child
with an empty bottle
and an empty room,
you were a monster
that i prayed i would find beneath my bed
you are a fugue state i dropped into willingly you
let me forget
that the water is cold
let me forget that this life
is the least compelling plot I’ve ever read
and i’m tempted to skip to the end
golden state fugue state in death valley sunburn girls
shed their skins like snakes and i
lust after empty husks
but i grew gills when i tried to drown in the bay i could
never be as hollow as that i
bite my lip and hope i'll bleed this time
instead of just aching
{no more aches just fire and fog if
i bleed
catch it in an inkwell you know
black ink
is worth more than my blood
send my letters to the red cross and spill red across the pages}
no more aches just fire and fog i
always liked myself more when i was on a stage
hope this story will skip to the end
cause i don’t think I can take another apathetic word i wish
this narrator
had drowned before her gills could form
but i feel a little less alone with my hand around your neck
you’re a cns depressant you
held my hand as i burned
you made me a chain of four leaf clovers and i swallowed every one i think
you made a bad decision
when you chose to help me survive
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 4:41 PM UTC
I'm quitting you cause you're a drug,
And drugs are bad (I learned that in school.)
You're a stimulant in the way that you make my heart race
And my pupils dilate, and my palms sweat.
You're a depressant because you blur my brain
And lower my inhibitions to the floor.
You're a problem.
You're an addiction that I'd like to be rid of.
But the withdrawals are Hell,
And drive me back to you every single time I throw you away.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:27 AM UTC
An ocean away from the Ivory Coast,
my feet are too clean and my mind is too *****
i'm so far away from this euphoric, ruddy discharge that my bed has transformed from a lukewarm boulder into all of my favorite childhood memories-
the unconscious a candy apple,
your dreams a sugary topping.
there you are-
wavering like a flag torn piece by piece from the wind,
savoring my tears like a glass jar,
gleaming ubiquitous affection, yet stoic,
unaffected by the blistering mantle-heat.
this ocean is my hospital gown tied so tightly that i can no longer breathe in your deepest fears and swallow them like morning coffee.
this ocean is my mother, choking on soothing words, repelling suicide with optimistic rhetoric, neurons firing in a tone so hectic that silent meditation is an inaudible conversation.
this ocean is the anti-depressant that ***** on my skin like a vacuum, dr. nestling his blindfold like an infant
this ocean is my empty home, abandoned, lost in the noise.
someday my feet will be ***** again,
and i'll feel your unyielding warmth like quarries in the summer,
dropping all of the noise and mending with what matters most,
where i'm blending in with infinite shades
of the Ivory Coast.
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 12:00 PM UTC
The pills do not work like promised,
For the thoughts still remain.
They have accomplished little,
Other than to drive me insane.
I feel myself becoming emotionless,
The medication smothers my ability to feel.
It helps me to endure this situation,
But it allows no room to heal.
But these blue pills, at least they are something,
Something to ease my suffering.
These many bad nights have left me terrified,
For I am prone to shuddering.
Having hindered emotions
Is better than feeling anxious or depressed.
So I will take this treatment even if
Happiness also suffers in the pursuit of rest.
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC
Your embrace, like being pressed against a
fridge door
Painful, but I couldn't rub the pain
in public, but endure it as I walked away
through the silent quad
Your goofy smile as I gave you
your birthday present last year
when there was that heat
And when I touched your heart like your mother once did
and you tried to hide, but couldn't resist
You are coming
Looming large
Coming yes, with your newest girlfriend
They come and go and come again, swirling around you
backs arched, hands splaying as they reveal their inner thoughts to your
rapt attention, cross their legs, uncross them, flip their estrogen hair,
your little subordinate girlfriends
What pleasures you could have if only...
You come to judge me, with your eyes and hers.
Your eyes I used to watch, but now you avert most times
You must maintain your detachment and judge me and
converse about me with her, as you "mentor" her
Meld with her. It must be a palpable connection between your center
and hers. Teach her how to think like you, feel you, be a part of you
Let her accept you into her
And me, up there, trying to impress both of you
to keep my job
to save my apartment, my unpaid bills, my cats
my dented car, my anti-depressant pills, my life sans
trifles, but deep and thoroughly lived
I am a slave dancer, unclothed and unprotected, but skilled and
nothing can take that away from me, not even you
As you will not look at me, only at your little electronic pad and at her,
As she sees me perform for the first time
and she won't have any idea that I was once in her place
and you were not detached
And I can only hope, that through it all, my skill
will prevail
And you, now detached little man
That I mourn, will keep me at my job
And sad as I will be to watch you watch me
and feel the energy between you both, as I
an experimental animal under a scientists eye
As I am there, and she is next to you
I still hope you stay detached and
let me keep my job and
I will be free forever.
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 10:17 PM UTC
love and alcohol are practically the same thing.
you take it, and take it, and take it,
until all of the sudden,
you cant take anymore.
some people can take more than others,
some people push over their limit,
and those eventually end up hurt.
there's different flavors,
different strengths,
and sometimes different effects.
the initial feeling is good,
but at the end they both become a depressant.
they both leave you,
at 2 am
sobbing on your bathroom floor,
begging someone to come back.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 12:44 AM UTC