"hydrocodone" poems
Hydrocodone®
Lipitor®
Zithromax®
Zocor®
Zoloft®
Prozac®
Ambien®
Fosamax®
Coumadin®
Klonopin®
Neurontin®
Naproxen®
Simvastatin
Albuterol
Glucophage
Metoprolol
I am hurting
on my knees
Can't afford
any of these!
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
There is no floor
Below the water there is sand and dust
My feet disappear below the mist
And below that is a floor of nothing.
Lock and key, relative conductivity
Separation of anxieties
Generally elementary
Universal energy
Scientific inquiry
Empirical discovery
What a bunch of crap.
I bathe in fake white plastic
I swim in silent smiles
Dionysian warfare paintings
Classical textual narrating
Fitness, happiness, soporific movies
Genial tendencies, braced for ingenuity
Waiting for a paroxysm to bring forth neologisms
That test the boundaries of scientific truth
That recapture the errant minds of youth
We could make new buildings or lose a tooth
I hold the latter higher than that
I tilt the ladder there and back
Assiduous and wont, *** for tat
All a game, a joke at that
Your domain, provoked and trapped
Impressionistic spinal taps
On canvases of green and black
All from within cerebral shacks
Wind hammers palm trees on windowpanes
Wind tears down houses, rips apart planes
Wind doesn't move me, yet seems urbane
It's so jejune, it's all the same
I'm tired and lonely, powder remains
Pink like reagents in reactive flames
Quick like catalysts jumping inane
Frontal lobes retired my brain.
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 12:02 PM UTC
I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about using every day.
I have dreams about those little yellow pills,
they don't speak to me,
or appear any different than they are in reality,
I just dream about holding them in my hands.
I couldn't do it,
recreational drug use.
I never could
no matter how many times I told myself I wasn't addicted, the truth remained
that I was.
I would tell myself "what kind of ******* is a drug addict, you're not, you're fine."
But I wasn't.
And everyday I have to tell myself "no, you cannot take those pills because you will not be able to stop"
Some days it ends there,
others I get as far as dialing my dealer's number.
Most days it's in the middle.
Being an addict is about having habits;
wake up, take three, (don't eat breakfast, the high will fade faster). Take four once the feeling leaves your legs, and four more before you go to sleep, so you can sleep.
Rinse and repeat; rinse and repeat.
Sobriety is the same way;
wake up, convince your self you don't need it.
Rinse and repeat as needed.
She helps, but she can't replace my addiction.
Although she gets me high, I can't become addicted to her, her lips do not have opiates hidden within,
but they have something better.
I don't think about getting high when I'm with her.
The high I get from her kisses is not dissimilar to that of methodone,
only their is no crash.
The high I get from caressing her thighs shares a likeness with *******
except it costs love, not cash.
The high I get from hearing her gasp my name as our love making intensifies is very similar to that of hydrocodone,
only much, much better.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
Every muscle in my body
Begs me to run
To chase your car
But then your taillights crest the hill
And disappear beyond
My mind lingers on you
Are you wearing your seatbelt?
Are you alert and emotionally sound?
After all
A distracted driver is just as dangerous
As a drunk driver
And no
I am not ok right now
Fear and feelings and Hydrocodone
Cloud my mind
Every time I watch you leave
Hurts more than the last
But this weekend was amazing
I had so much fun
Felt so loved
So safe
This weekend was not wasted
On painkillers and platitudes
This weekend was real
Tactile and truthful
My love is relentless
And I will pursue you
To the end of the earth.
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 7:04 PM UTC
Your gracious Light extends
You have Healed my brokenness
On You I can depend
You touched my pain with Loving Hands
Anointing hurts and woes
It's like a warm embrace and kiss
And Love that OVERFLOWS!
Thank you for what You have done
The Healing You have wrought
This kind of Restoration
Can't be obtained or bought
I need no Hydrocodone
I have no need for pills
I have my Balm of Gilead
*And I ALWAYS WILL!*
SoulSurvivor
(c) 3/10/2016
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
I think I'm better.
At many things;
at being a drug user.
Hold up, you're saying, a better drug user?
How could you be better at using drugs?
Isn't the point for addicts to stop using?
Isn't that what makes them better?
Maybe.
I only buy my **** at the lowest of prices,
yet I always make sure it's good quality,
I won't buy it again if it's not.
//
I never use two days in a row,
or at least I try not to.
I don't use like I did anyway.
**** I hardly remember this last summer,
what with all the hydrocodone,
methamphetamine cut MDMA,
*** and alcohol.
I don't think I was sober for more than two days.
But it's not like that anymore.
I don't get high on days I work,
I don't get ****** at school,
I don't drink on weekdays,
I don't pop Molly anymore.
I'm a better drug user.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC
You are my killer
You are death
You are my endless tunnel wreck
You ****** me to my tomb
You are my endless somber womb
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
the glow-in-the-dark stars on my wall
are brighter than
my ambitions,
vicodin washes down with
stone cold fear,
and mercury is in retrograde-
not that we felt the need to communicate.
tiny planets on a string,
we danced in the
orbit that we shared.
you had misgivings,
told me pluto
never made it around the sun,
not even once.
but earth created a moon
with her soulmate.
mercury doesn't return direct
until february 11th;
by then
paracetamol and hydrocodone
will have passed.
opiates and human beings
both sources of anxiety
but i don't mind
drowning in them both.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC
My life is poetry and yours is prose
I can mean things nobody knows
All hidden away in my sweet sharp mind
A thousand guesses are guessed just fine
But they read you better all straight and clear
There's no scheming with rhyme all messy and queer
Though I'm simple enough to decipher and see
For minds majorly lazy nor dullards ain't free
Away, I sit where old red roses bloom
Alone, burning minutes this afternoon
My tears are stuck behind my eyes
This bitter beauty beneath grime disguised
Fumbling around while fair skin bakes
The city is quiet now, make no mistake
I think awhile and then go to wander on
These roses belong to all and so to none
One cool jet of water tries to pass for a fountain
A man in short shorts strides by unaccounted
Laughing at how I’m besotted with my own malaise
I must remind myself that a poet’s task is to praise
But it’s terribly hard to make shields without sarcasm
And loopy concerns will throw wise men toward spasms
It’s almost better to float through hydrocodone dreams wide awake
Than to sing futilely of sand and flights and smiles felt not faked
For this insult to suffering can’t end quickly enough
And the Suessical rhythm leaves much to rebuff
Despite luxurious lucidity the inconsequence falls on
Until next year’s parade and hope of less scorching suns
Because I’m not like the roses I’m not like the water
I’m not like the dude whose shorts won’t go farther
Maybe you’ll realize finally after thrice the **** crows
That my life is poetry but yours is, darling, still prose.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 1:49 AM UTC
Hydrocodone eyes
Stum'ling wearily in pain
Breaks my heart for you
~Hilda~
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 2:33 AM UTC
Drunk
Drunk
Drunk
Here we go again
The sweet burn as the poison slithers down your throat
like a snake slowly creeping up to it’s prey
I walked away this time
I didn’t go too far
Only some alcohol and some hydrocodone
Where will I go from here?
I’m heavy on my feet and quick in my head
All I want is sleep
I can’t have it
I always have to take it
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 5:24 PM UTC
hydrocodone,
its like the ice broke and now i'm
in the depths of the murky swamp.
i am in a morning bleary eyed
slumber, still.
my head is pounding and i can barely move.
its the aftermath of all that euphoria, i suppose;
three little happy pills.
i need a cigarette.
yesterday we smoked 17,
and now we have nothing.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 2:04 AM UTC
Doctors said,
"Kid, you've got problems.
Not to worry,
We can solve them.
Take this pill twice,
Every morning.
Here's two more for
When you crash. "
I was stupid,
What did I know?
Fresh in high school
Fourteen years old.
Life just seemed to
Pass me by,
Then I took one
And got high.
Freshman year,
In ROTC,
So on point, no one
Could beat me.
Then one day,
They caught my eye;
"You should probably
Meet this guy. "
Fifteen kids stuffed
In a closet,
Huddled around our
Technical sergeant,
In his hands,
Like shining diamonds,
"I've got stuff that you
Should try, man. "
Lortab, norco,
I'd heard stories.
Ritalin just didn't
Do much for me.
Tylenol 4 and xanax bars
Made me picture
Crashing cars.
Everyone knew that
I had Addy, I drank beer,
And I smoked fatties.
They said,
"What do you want for go-pills?"
I said,
"I'll take ALL of THOSE pills. "
From that day,
My life was over.
Never again would I
Be sober.
Still I pulled through,
In the end,
With some help from
My 'new friends. '
Let's fast forward,
On to college,
Rich kids with their
Parents' wallets.
Track me down with
Midterm chills,
"Hey man, can I maybe
Score some pills? "
Hydrocodone, my
Best friend,
Stays with me until
The end.
Empty bliss that's
Like no other,
Gifted by my
Lovely mother.
Every month, I'd
Throw a party,
Young and stupid,
All invited.
Smoke some ****
And drink and chill,
Waiting for those
Luscious pills.
Talking smack and
Starting drama, waiting
Till we hear my mama,
Twist the **** and
Step inside,
Bongs and blunts were quick
To hide.
I said, "chill, guys,
She's not stupid.
My mom's cool with how
I do ****
Sure she likes to take my pills,
Still, she's brought me
All my thrills. "
"Twenty norco, fifteen xanax,
Pill for pill,
Understand that? "
Then she sat,
And smoked our joints,
"Oh my adorable
****** boys! "
Travis said,
"Dude, that's your MOM? "
I said, "why, man?
Is there a problem? "
He said, "nah, but ****
She's cool! "
I said,
"Only since I've been in school. "
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 2:10 PM UTC
Anytime i've had a little wine, and i'm feeling as if the world is against me, certain memories like to flood my brain.
One time I almost told you I loved you
because I knew you wanted to hear it.
and another time I let you put your tongue down my throat,
because I knew you wanted to do that, too.
Who was I to say no?
You were nice. You let me pick all the records out.
You bought all the wine. You let me talk and complain, and talk and complain.
So who was I to say no?
Want another ***** cranberry?
yes
Want to take this hydrocodone?
sure
My friend is in town and has real good coke!
ok lets do it
Motels. Boxed wine. Cigarettes. Pills.
(my love language apparently)
I can still see myself wandering the narrow halls of a highway budget motel, looking for an escape, but knowing there wasn't one.
You were passed out on the bed, exhausted from a night of drugs and drunk *** (Oh, you poor, tireless thing!)
You looked dead almost. Dead but pleased. It pleased me to think maybe you were dead. Then I realized that would be a complete **** situation.
I sat there and poured a glass of wine and stared at you. (by glass of wine, I mean cup of wine. The thin plastic mouthwash cups that come with the motel room)
Nope, not dead. So I took the hotel key and snuck out with the plan of not returning, as if I could actually get away with it.
I found myself at the motel pool. I lit up the last cigarette and sat there.
I think my soul left my body as
I listened to the cars zoom by on the highway. The freedom they had. They were going home to their loved ones. Or, at least they weren't stranded at a 1 star motel with a master manipulator.
I sat there,
wrapped in the invisible chains of lies and regret.
Just sat there. Soul-less.
And then it dawned on me..
I can't leave. I can't make this grand escape I had planned in my head.
So out went the cigarette,
and out went the light in our motel room.
As I crawled into bed,
You were snoring and
the sun was about to come up.
I had never wanted a sunrise more in my life.
And you just laid there and snored, as I lied there wishing I had more drugs to put me out of my misery
Jan 3, 2022
Jan 3, 2022 at 12:55 AM UTC
currently i feel like downing my 90 day supply of fluoxetine, the 30ish days of sleep meds i have left, all my moms pills, and the hydrocodone we have left, take a bath, and slice my skin till im nothing but cuts
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 10:07 PM UTC
Brutality been building up
Cutting through the marrow
Feels like pork, penny flavored
High tension cord, aroma savored
Laced with liquid hydrocodone
World fades to black as the cleaver falls
(As the cleaver falls)
As the cleaver falls!
Spoken like a true warrior, you scheme
Despise it, revised it like a million times, it
Hurts to think that if it were tangible
I would probably just **** it to death
Scared to let myself get a handle
On the last human feelings I have left
She was a no one, a ghost
Her family left her in her glory days
Tell me, would you even have known
If I chose to keep it hidden away?
White lines on roadsides
Up my ******* nose again
I could **** it twice
This feeling I feel in the end
Every **** time I feel the cleaver fall
It's the whole night over again
A twisted groundhog day forever
Been runnin' since the very first ******
It's been building up
The brutality
And I can finally feel the release
Of the fatality
I'm balancing
Between the oncoming
Traffic
They'll say it was tragic
But not for me
Because I wanted to ******* end it
A shallow grave beckoning
Her bones like excellency
The eel in the cold pit
Slippery like new cement
Slow descent
No incentive
To respect the dead
Feeling the bile rise
Letting it coat her insides
The smell like hospitals
After a travesty
If I could put it in to words
I would just **** it red
Or beat it until my knuckles bled
And I know that if I find some help
I would satisfy
The sickest parts of me
So who the **** is next?
Don't ask me for my number, kid.
Kiss your mama goodbye
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 1:50 AM UTC
It started out with a small white pill
Into the mouth and down the throat
Who knew something so little could ****
The body dissipates into nostalgic rhythm
Down the throat into the mind
Fading into a darkness that can't be stopped
We dance with colors that make us blind
The brain sleeps while the body twitches
The empty orange bottle falls down
Tears follow as she sweats from the fear
She weeps in her pink and white gown
The stomach begins to turn and ache
The aches cause scratches on her skin
A pain only a fix will get rid of
Nothing can stop it, not even men
Her blood boils for her dealers rescue
Why does hydrocodone close your eyes?
Mama wake up.
The tabourine man knows you cannot die
All that was left was a body, and no soul.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 9:55 PM UTC
i eat through the horoscopes and predictions for the new year like the words will cut through the raging fire that is my anxiety and lovelessness,
(i had bruises all along my jaw)
i regret that we never fell together, i regret the way you left me and the way i let you leave
the way i know you like the sound of the car pulling up in the drive way
and the taste of cappuccino, the warm glow of hydrocodone
the greybrown of tree skin
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 9:43 PM UTC
*Waiting on a storm but its only rain , someone upstairs playing with my brain
We wait on the pain with our guard down struggling through the lesson it contains
Plywood cities with little toy trains
A newspaper stuck in the storm drain
A town crier bellowing the morning news
Matchbox delivery trucks ,
A mercurial dove cooing the blues
The Queens bowl of Corn Flakes with a silver
spoon , railroad tracks bound for the midnight moon
Hydrocodone Hannah and her morning town
Music deep inside with no audible sound* ...
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 1:42 PM UTC
I need to find somebody who can tear me away
From the car crime babies and switchblade days
The bark of the unemployment hounds
And the thud of the thick white skull on the ground
I won't die in the bony arms of the state
To be laid to rest in the wake of a faded town
If the raincoats come to steal my home
There's a big white house at the end of the road
I can see you wrapped in Egyptian thread
In a marble garden immune to the mess
If you leave this world in a rhinestone shroud
We could finally make your father proud
If I leave this world in a loaded daze
I can finally have and eat my cake
I wanna die like a rich boy, diving
In a hydrocodone dream
And you can die like a rich girl by me
Oh how the magazines will grieve
I'll die like a rich boy, bathing
In a milk bath I could drown
I wanna die like a rich boy
Even if we're as poor as we are now
I wanna die like a rich boy, drowning
in a lake that bears my name
And you can die like a rich girl by me
Flushed and radiant with fame
I wanna lie in state on the TV
In a golden cardboard crown
I wanna die like a rich boy even if we're
As poor as we are now
I've found you now so tear me away
From the feral street they lumped us in
I'll be Shakespeare's moonstruck king
We can lose our minds at the top of the hill
We burn cash and carry a decadent flame
Way into the night and beyond the grave
Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 5:34 PM UTC