"flexeril" poems - Hello Poetry

The world behind my eyes is so much prettier than real life The world inside my head is filled to the brim promise The world behind my eyes is brimming with a million, million dreams The world inside my head is where impossible possibilities exist. I will dive into my imaginary world today Floating on Zaleplon and Flexeril pills I will live inside my mind's creation and thrive While my body is still. The world beyond my skull is beauty and innocent words The world within my brain is laughter and smiles and games The world beyond my skull knows no pain or judgement The world within my brain is free from tears and frowns, from shame. I will immerse myself in my second reality today And I will forget nihilism and existentialism. Life will regain the meaning it held in my early childhood And, with Death, they will pull me, and I will let them. There is no greater curse and no greater gift than to be aware of Life. There's nothing worse than knowing the pointless routine And it'll send a thinker to the grave, thus I chose the world Behind my eyes, beneath my skull, inside my dreams.

0

Jul 20, 2014

Jul 20, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC

QSaint

The World Behind My Eyes

The world behind my eyes is so much prettier than real life The world inside my head is filled to the brim promise The world behind my eyes is brimming with a million, million dreams The world inside my head is where impossible possibilities exist. I will dive into my imaginary world today Floating on Zaleplon and Flexeril pills I will live inside my mind's creation and thrive While my body is still. The world beyond my skull is beauty and innocent words The world within my brain is laughter and smiles and games The world beyond my skull knows no pain or judgement The world within my brain is free from tears and frowns, from shame. I will immerse myself in my second reality today And I will forget nihilism and existentialism. Life will regain the meaning it held in my early childhood And, with Death, they will pull me, and I will let them. There is no greater curse and no greater gift than to be aware of Life. There's nothing worse than knowing the pointless routine And it'll send a thinker to the grave, thus I chose the world Behind my eyes, beneath my skull, inside my dreams.

20

100 milligrams of flexeril to relax my beating heart until the muscle stops flexing beating pumping. 100 milligrams of restoril and maybe finally i can sleep. maybe i can finally sleep. waking up has become such a chore such an unpleasant experience and if this doesn't stop it, nothing will. flexeril and restoril and 45 milligrams of methadone because all i could score was four and a half pills. 30 milligrams of phenagren just to make sure i can keep it all down. i heard you could use dramamine but hey, who wants to risk it? i've taken my last chance. 15 milligrams of xanax and if i can make it for another hour or so i won't even remember what i've done. this will end with a clean slate, me on the floor ******* saying mother, mother, what the **** did i do? if i can speak at all. 290 milligrams to prove this is not a cry for help.

0

Apr 30, 2012

Apr 30, 2012 at 1:30 PM UTC

jeremy-maxwell

lullaby.

100 milligrams of flexeril to relax my beating heart until the muscle stops flexing beating pumping. 100 milligrams of restoril and maybe finally i can sleep. maybe i can finally sleep. waking up has become such a chore such an unpleasant experience and if this doesn't stop it, nothing will. flexeril and restoril and 45 milligrams of methadone because all i could score was four and a half pills. 30 milligrams of phenagren just to make sure i can keep it all down. i heard you could use dramamine but hey, who wants to risk it? i've taken my last chance. 15 milligrams of xanax and if i can make it for another hour or so i won't even remember what i've done. this will end with a clean slate, me on the floor ******* saying mother, mother, what the **** did i do? if i can speak at all. 290 milligrams to prove this is not a cry for help.

45

i went to see a psychiatrist last monday in the “avenues” and it was refreshing in a way because she actually listened to me, without making me nervous, which is hard. she asked me simple questions, i told her of the ****** abuse as a child, and the toxicity of my relationship before. she asked how my quality of sleep is, and i said it’s fine but i wake up crying or once i screamed ****** ****** and i also punched the fan blowing on my face in my sleep because i thought i was being attacked. i have panic attacks after grocery shopping and a phobia of crowds, although i’m really unsafe anywhere, anything could happen is how i feel. (my whole life has felt like i’m on the edge of a cliff) i pick at my face, and sometimes pluck out my hair. embarrassing. but better than when i was a young girl and ****** on my.. ****** hair... ugh. wow. anyway she said it sounds like i’m having ptsd symptoms, and that my behavior is very common in people with childhood trauma. she adjusted my meds, now i’m on the highest dose prozac, doxycycline for my face, flexeril, klonopin nightly, and trazadone. oh and birth control. anyway i called out to work one day because the night previous i had had two panic attacks, in my sleep as well. long story short my coworker (i think she’s my friend but i really don’t know to tell you the truth) asked how i was, and i told her everything i just said. she replied with “ptsd from what?” and my thing is i’ve told her of *** abuse when I was a child, and i’ve told her about my toxic abusive relationship. so i replied with photos i’ve taken over the years of my self harm and explained again the abuse and she never replied. i see her at work and she acts chipper as always and just exactly like my friend/coworker. but the only thing she said to me about the pictures i sent her “are you feeling any better?” as she was getting in her car. that stung a little bit. anyway i truly am a crybaby. no sense of direction because i have no sense of urgency. “nothing really matters, anyone can see” and yet there are days when the sun shines even though it hurts my eyes, and it’s beautiful, the flowers in our front yard are beautiful. i’m grateful for life. maybe the meds are working again, hm?

0

Jun 24, 2019

Jun 24, 2019 at 11:58 PM UTC

missnobodyxo

journal of a girl (crybaby)

i went to see a psychiatrist last monday in the “avenues” and it was refreshing in a way because she actually listened to me, without making me nervous, which is hard. she asked me simple questions, i told her of the ****** abuse as a child, and the toxicity of my relationship before. she asked how my quality of sleep is, and i said it’s fine but i wake up crying or once i screamed ****** ****** and i also punched the fan blowing on my face in my sleep because i thought i was being attacked. i have panic attacks after grocery shopping and a phobia of crowds, although i’m really unsafe anywhere, anything could happen is how i feel. (my whole life has felt like i’m on the edge of a cliff) i pick at my face, and sometimes pluck out my hair. embarrassing. but better than when i was a young girl and ****** on my.. ****** hair... ugh. wow. anyway she said it sounds like i’m having ptsd symptoms, and that my behavior is very common in people with childhood trauma. she adjusted my meds, now i’m on the highest dose prozac, doxycycline for my face, flexeril, klonopin nightly, and trazadone. oh and birth control. anyway i called out to work one day because the night previous i had had two panic attacks, in my sleep as well. long story short my coworker (i think she’s my friend but i really don’t know to tell you the truth) asked how i was, and i told her everything i just said. she replied with “ptsd from what?” and my thing is i’ve told her of *** abuse when I was a child, and i’ve told her about my toxic abusive relationship. so i replied with photos i’ve taken over the years of my self harm and explained again the abuse and she never replied. i see her at work and she acts chipper as always and just exactly like my friend/coworker. but the only thing she said to me about the pictures i sent her “are you feeling any better?” as she was getting in her car. that stung a little bit. anyway i truly am a crybaby. no sense of direction because i have no sense of urgency. “nothing really matters, anyone can see” and yet there are days when the sun shines even though it hurts my eyes, and it’s beautiful, the flowers in our front yard are beautiful. i’m grateful for life. maybe the meds are working again, hm?

6

addicted to clon addicted to nicotine addicted to flexeril addicted to you addicted to self harm addicted to restricting addicted to being intoxicated

0

Aug 22, 2019

Aug 22, 2019 at 6:05 AM UTC

missnobodyxo

addiction

addicted to clon addicted to nicotine addicted to flexeril addicted to you addicted to self harm addicted to restricting addicted to being intoxicated

7

2 melitonin 2 flexeril 2 Tylenol pm 2 Benadryl If I can't sleep now I need to be committed

0

Nov 22, 2017

Nov 22, 2017 at 7:06 PM UTC

stacy-mills

Sleep

2 melitonin 2 flexeril 2 Tylenol pm 2 Benadryl If I can't sleep now I need to be committed

5