"nyquil" poems
Borderline Personality Disorder.
1. The other day I woke up and thought I knew who I was
I fell asleep and somewhere in between I lost myself
I lost the feeling in my stomach too
but we're still talking about how much we have in common.
2. My sweater got stuck on the hanger this morning
I started to rip it down
eventually I broke plastic and skin.
I haven't been back in my room since.
3. 12:06 PM Today my best friend came home and took most of our makeup
12:07 PM I messaged her and mocked our friendship.
12:07 PM She was in trouble with her grandma and had to hurry. She didn't know.
12:08 PM I broke down crying.
4. I woke up at 7:32 AM and took 4 shots
drank 2 beers
smoked four bowls
drank half a bottle of NyQuil and woke up the next day.
I have yet to figure out why.
5. I wanted to be a horse trainer for 9 years
then I decided I wanted to be an artist
worked on becoming a tattoo artist
matured into a writer
fell in love with photography
now I'm not even sure if I like school.
6. First scars appeared at 9
worst scars at 15.
First attempt at 10
almost wasn't an attempt at 14.
7. I've been happy the past few days
but I still want to **** myself
because soon I'll be drowning in depression
and succumbing to anxiety.
9. Once I got so bored
I thought myself into sorrow.
I didn't come out for a few hours
but by dinner I was laughing.
10. I used to be in love with a boy
but I didn't know
so I used whatever I could get
and now I'm alone.
I don't blame him.
11. I've mentally lost myself
as I screamed into the mirror
and it wasn't me talking to myself.
I don't really remember being there
but I was.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 5:50 AM 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
You know how the Lorax spoke for the trees? I feel the need to speak for my four-year-old niece. Not because she can't speak -- she can and rarely stops once she starts -- but because there are certain concepts time has yet to grant her. So until time does, I got you covered, Lucy.
Mommy,
you call it the "poetry" of a child's sleep,
ohh 'n ahh, she's so, so sweet,
I call it child's "pose." Not the yoga neither.
I'm posing and rolling and cooing
biding time until you're tripping on the
Ambien retreating to a dream.
You're only reprieve.
'Cause when your *** is asleep,
I be mixing up the Play-doh,
red and yellow, black and white,
'till it's 50 shades of brown, alright?
Dirt pies from the backyard,
put 'em by the brownies
in the morning world-weary in your pajamys
Slip-up, slip-up, I smell a slip-up.
Ain't a direct threat, Queen Buttercup
because you'd just say, "I ain't afraid of you, shorty."
Blood flow. Blood slow. Simmering, saucy.
Mommy, looking down skyscraper balcony.
May I remind, a giant ain't bringing down Manhattan,
It's that little, wayward wrecking ball, eh Captain?
Over my shoulder, drinking from a thermos --
stumble in your step mean you gettin' nervous--
hand me piece of paper and two crayons
macaroni orange and swamp water liaisons
these coloring sheets are so bourgeoisie.
These coloring sheets are so bourgeoisie.
"Color outside the lines, eh Lucy?
don't play by the rules," my Mommy say,
but I been around long enough to know dat
'dese rules pay. Outside the lines? Is just uh sloppy.
Been outside the club in front of the line
with my fellow shawties.
Slip-up, slip-up, I smell a slip-up.
Ain't a direct threat, Queen Buttercup
because you'd just say, "I ain't afraid of you, shorty."
Blood flow. Blood slow. Simmering, saucy.
Mommy, looking down skyscraper balcony.
May I remind, a giant ain't bringing down Manhattan,
It's that little, wayward wrecking ball, eh Captain?
Chicken and fries three meals-a-day.
Chocolate milk three meals-a-day.
Tricycle boys three wheels away.
Hands on your hips can't make me stay.
Lego blocks lodged in your skull.
I've hid the Advil. The Dayquil. Drank the Nyquil though.
Alright, alright, time to get confessional.
All my ***** accidents are intentional.
I melt my own Barbies to feel alive.
Snort glue sticks just to get hella high.
Mommy, you've got a messy ketchup face.
Mommy, you've got spiders in your hair.
Mommy, you've got ****** on your pants.
Ha. Ha.
Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Bi-otch.
Blood flow. Blood slow. Simmering, saucy.
Mommy, looking down skyscraper balcony.
May I remind, a giant ain't bringing down Manhattan,
It's that little, wayward wrecking ball, eh Captain?
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 7:29 PM UTC
(the city had fought the fortnight before)
fire burned through the little skirts
and plastic lunch boxes
carrying the nourishment of our future
doctors and worldshakers—
Future
tax paying Americans
And beacon of the nation.
Wide awake, in the thoughts of a light bulb,
(Where sidewalk stairs politic with the devil,)
A raindrop fell and whispered to the asphalt,
“Tell me what you know about happiness…”
And somewhere, in the middle of a pineapple parade,
A Pepsi can smiled and danced the night away with Nyquil labels.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 9:12 PM UTC
I've had
****
Not ***
Not **********
Not consensually.
I've been
******
*****
abused.
taken advantage of.
whatever it is you want to call it
I've had it done.
I've been kissed
Fingered
choked
hit
spit on
spit in
I've been held,
hostage
with knives against my throat
guns to my head,
in my mouth
drugs down my throat
barely conscious I've been
******
I've been in love
I've been heartbroken
I've been touched
consensually,
let me tell you about the consensually.
I've been kissed in the bathroom, lifting
her
up against the wall
laughing when our teeth brushed against
one another's
hands fumbling up a skirt
around a throat
fingers tangled in wavy hair.
I've been touched sitting in her lap
outside on a hot day
wearing her hoodie
around children
freshmen year.
I've been touched
multiple times
by him
in band rooms, away from prying eyes
secrets to be kept and wooed over
laying in a dress
during a concert event
head in the lap of my best friend
underwear brushed to the side
fingers thrusting in
and yes, this was consentually.
I've been touched
in the school hallways
every day after school or in between classes
tasted and tasted
he tasted me
I tasted myself.
And in the living room of our best friend's house
even though I told him no
I told him the safe word
he continued.
I say it was consensual because in the end,
I said I loved it.
Don't argue about it.
I wanted it.
and I've been touched
in her pool
heated ever so lovingly
LED lights danced us into the temptation
as did the alcohol on my part
with her lips against my chest
desperate to mark, yet not to show
i mean, hey, my step-dad's homophobic
though I'd love nothing more than to show who I belong to.
We switched a lot, but ultimately I landed in her lap
water licking up my sides,
sending chills to *******
goosebumps
and her fingers hesitating
not daring to touch.
"i'm going to need a yes."
finally.
Finally asked.
I nodded eagerly
and she treated me like a piano
perfect notes
though brief I know that I was
drenched in all ways
the chlorine water yes
and of course the obvious.
you see, we were going to do something that night
we had the chance to
I wanted to
she wanted to
In the end,
she took something for her headache
though it was a sort of
similar thing to Nyquil
We were going to.
But we laid in bed
and we molded against each other
and sailed asleep.
I've slept with one person.
Her
Sydney
My Muse.
But Still, A ******
am I
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 5:31 AM UTC
Walking around
Miniature pharmacy,
Too many pills to count,
No one understands,
No one can relate,
To the type of life,
The type of hate
She has for herself.
This one every 12 hours,
That one every eight,
Six puffs of an inhaler,
It's her body that she hates.
Walking down the road,
Her bag rattles from all the drugs,
She pops some more here and there,
Then it's nyquil that she chugs.
Why isn't she normal?
Why does she have to do this?
No one her age is worried
About missing their next dose,
But if she misses
A single medication,
She might as well
Admit herself into a hospital
Coma-tose.
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 10:01 AM UTC
72 hours in
I'm giving serious thought to
drinking the Listerine.
The ***** is it's citrus flavored.
I can't even rinse with that toxic concoction, let alone swallow it,
but I'm running out of options.
I finished my other MacGyvers--
the Nyquil was first to go,
followed by a Dimetapp chaser
(the cherry,
not a refreshing grape-flavored one)
and a shot of Wal-fed
that induced indigestion.
My kingdom for a belt of whiskey--
maybe a snifter of ***
You know you're bottoming out
when you wax nostalgic
for drunken days
when soiling yourself was justifiable
due to your general state of disarray.
I'm the **** that adheres to the bottom of the barrel—
******* in the shower with my shoes on,
pants removed as a cautionary measure.
Not that life can get worse;
nothing trumps waking up miserable,
sore,
jobless,
alone,
queasy,
woozy and
drooling uncontrollably
and lacking ***** to blame it on.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 11:51 PM UTC
oh yuh
***** dubstep bumping like an 808
partying like a rockstar
marijuana molly ***** nyquil ativan adarall
baby bash
waka flocka bumping super H E L L - UH loud
the party downstairs
will be raging with under age kids all night -
here we go again
the peeping land lord- and the drunnk guy outside my bathroom
the sketchy anti social other room mate
the 2nd story appt
and the kids downstairs partying like i did when i was 19
wait a minute
i am way to old for this ****
Apr 22, 2011
Apr 22, 2011 at 6:51 PM UTC
If I told you I killed myself at 16 would you believe me?
Or just say "young Dougie is just miss behaving" slaving, as I am chained and serving society who is caving, and ask god for gifts that even he found entertaining...when a boy grows up his insides start changing and the tint of red in his heart dims and starts fading,
he felt pain at its highest, experienced the attitude of a liar and seen 1st hand what it means when a "GOOD THING" just expires. He grows tired and tense while blood drips from his hand, broken glass on the floor... he punched the reflection of a man…
who seems injustice and corrupt, always pushin his luck, and remains silent when addressed, he so easily erupts. Takin shots of big dreams with NyQuil in a cup, "good" imaginative girls around him, he's just too messed up...liquor doesn't help his mind, still stuck in a rut, and the shakes only means his temperatures gon up.
You see the high in his eyes, where he constantly lies, never looks you in the face, just looks on the other side, one of a kind guy, never been a afraid to die, don't ask this guy why? Cause he will never reply.
Communication he never lacked, he just speaks better over a track,
Give him a pen, white paper,
A smooth beat and watch him rap.
And listen closely to his story, pay close attention to the facts,
visualize all his words,
And dissect his true meaning
Of a brain dead poet who uses his pen filled of integrity with a pad made of dreaming.
*Don't ask me to save your soul, or rescue your burning heart from a building...
I'm no superhero, just a modern day fake EVIL villain...*
-Dougie Simps
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
I'm shaking with fear and I want to ****
That unicorn I see that has all my pills,
Those pills that give me all the nice thrills,
From codeine to NyQuil to Advil,
People stare at me and shake and shiver,
Pulling out a knife while my hands quiver,
Stab it into some small child's liver,
Today I'm a mailman, a death deliverer,
That child's name was Jon,
I killed him while he was mowing a lawn,
He was Mexican and trying to get paid,
I guess I had to come around and make his day,
I said, "Yeet!" as I threw the kids body,
Down into the river and then I yelled, "Gotee!",
I'll feast on the rest of the child's flesh,
Jon was a nice meal, probably the best,
I didn't find my pills in Mr. Jon the unicorn,
I guess his mom gave birth to a ***** that was born,
Without the pill portal that he should've had,
Their family is terrible, all members must be bad,
Now I don't have my pills and I've just had a meal,
I guess the kids meat was a good enough appeal.
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
Hints of maple kiss each of
your highlander grog fingertips.
The smell of her shampoo
pierces & permeates throughout
your living room, lingering still
to this day, on your pillow.
You told her you'd make a perfume
that smells like the car heater on
long drives home for Christmas.
Aromas of her laundry detergent
still live in your spine
like LSD.
When you turn your neck a
certain way you fall back
into trances of her & 1997.
Vick's Vaper Rub, NyQuil
Cough Syrup breath, with
a 104 degree fever. She
sobbed when her last
sea monkey died
You called her cartographer.
Intricate trails of herself connecting
each board of your apartment floor.
Charted long ago when her
candle still burned scents of warmth.
The art of burning,
a front the fire place of
maple logs where you told her
to "Let go."
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 2:56 AM UTC
i swallowed the sunset like a pill;
and drowned it with a bottle of nyquil;
so my dreams involve stars instead of your hands;
and my brain contains gradients in place of your arms.
i clawed my own eyeballs out, mistaking them for yours;
and what i thought was your skeleton i rammed with my car;
was actually just a mailbox.
i’ve screamed at the top of my lungs;
but you are still jammed in my throat.
i’ve opened up my skin;
but your poison is stuck to me like a sunburn.
(a.m.c.)
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
I've caught you like the common cold
but I have no interest in getting better
spare me the nyquil
I'll pass on the penicillin
I have no love for codeine
your presence is the most sobering thing I know.
I miss spoke a few seconds ago
there's nothing common about you
you're a rare strain of virus
and I'm patient zero
diagnosis: terminal
infect me,
corrupt me,
do your very worst.
break me down into my component parts
and return me to the earth from which I came.
I have made my peace.
I will rise from that same earth, lazarus of chocolate skin
a little stronger
a little wiser
immunized by your viral love to the horror of the world.
so take me
make & unmake me
I would die a thousand deaths by your hands.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
no, I wasn't always like this
I used to cry about the ozone layer
now excess calories upset me
more than excess carbon emissions
these days I spend half my life
inside parentheses
the other half with a therapist
she says I see too many things to be happy
but it's hard to shut your eyes
when clothes pins made of neurosis
keep them open until four in the morning
so I've learned to sleep with an eye mask
and a blanket of NyQuil
because there isn't a pill
for severe self awareness
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC
I'm currenty somewhere between
Emotionally void
And too emotional.
It's not just OCD, or depression, or anxiety.
Or what everyone else thinks I have.
Just, you know,
ASPD.
Ha.
It makes me laugh.
**** yourself.
I need therapy again,
And I'm so jealous of those who can afford it.
I need meds,
And I'm so angry at those who can get it.
I know I need help.
But when you act out or ask for help
And all you get is silenced
Because it means your parenting is week
Because you care how it affects someone else instead
Because it is too much for you too handle
Because you'd rather I fix you,
Then I'm not going to get better.
Do you know how I solve it alone?
Razors and safety pins to make it dull,
Nyquil and Tylenol PM to get some rest.
***** and **** to medicate the main problems,
And binging and vomitting to get the physique back.
Maybe I don't need help.
This seems to be working pretty.
Well, only if pretty well means not at all.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 8:18 PM UTC
uncomfortable itching skin
wooly sweater clung around
my neck. closed fist around my
chest. tip-toeing, balancing
upon eggshells around myself.
unwilling to utter the two
syllables. thoughts tugging on
leash, restricted corners too
dangerous for venture. fear
of the uncomfort, of acceptance.
but there are times where
self-control is out of reach
where it strays, undetected.
heaviness of slumber suppresses
barriers, finding my way
back to you. and for those
eight hours i find me
in your arms, dancing to
jazz tunes. and for those
eight hours you lips taste
of peppermint and cigarettes.
and for those eight hours
i finally feel the comforting
warmth of your voice and
the musical tones of your
laughter.
to my dismay, the sun
ultimately rises and time
comes that i must wake once
again. brief moments of normality
and confined happiness. once again
the cold sinks in and
my chest concretes, lump
in throat and strained vocal
chords. once again i
find myself on the ledge of sanity
and hysterics. and then i
realize i've always been
this way.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
"Which are You?
Those who go to bed early
Look forward to tomorrow
Those who dread the coming day
Stay up until they can see the sun
Just to make sure they'll make it." -Sara K
To Sarah k which are you?
I'm the one who wishes to sleep early looking forward for the day.
But as the night gets older I start dreading for tomorrow.
At 10 pm is two nyquil with water.
From 11 to 12 is dark liquor.
Hennessy or Remy hoping that'll do the trick
I just want to sleep until God calls me.
1230 hits I'm still wide awake
So I crush and roll and my eyes blood clot
By 1am my body is done but my mind still racing.
I take a percocet feeling if I numb the body just enough I can numb the brain and lay to rest
I don't want to see tomorrow anymore
I don't want the to sun rise.
Is winter time in NY so light has yet to hit the horizon
2,3,4, I toss, I turn
Turmoil in my train of thoughts
As if I was walking through the river of sorrows
At 5 I finally close my eyes
630 finally arrives
My window is perfectly aligned with the sun
While the rays go through my shades
And rest upon my eyes
I awake maybe wishing I would be laid to rest
Chilly morning and my day begins
Xanax for my anxiety and depression
Adderall to keep me focus and awake
Red bull for breakfast and I'm on my way.
I am the one that whish he sleeps but is always wide awake writing with blood as if it was ink.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC
Coughing up the phlegm
I've come to realize, this big surprise
no longer can I keep it to myself
Stuff like this can grow inside the body
and it's snotty
but you need to know the facts now for yourself.
and if the sputum's yellow,
be assured that it is viral
but can spiral
into something worse
a curse or so they say
so take the time to rest
and yes,
drink water and some juice
and for a boost,
vitamin C, 1000 mgs
just twice a day.
and by all means
take your cold to Walgreen, Eckerts, CVS, or Rite Aid,
where there's medicines that might aid and I might add
many brands that you can choose from~
Robitussin stops your fussin'
Advil Sinus for your highness,
by and far my favored Nyquil night-time
is the stuff I get my snooze from
if you've got a fever and it's green
you're infected, should be seen
do not delay if it is grey
or other colors of the day
because these bugs are nasty
downright mean!
cozy up with Vicks upon your chest
mentholatum tends to clear the passage best
a little dab will also do
beneath the nares it is true
external balms and lotions help you rest.
a clean humidifier by the bed
keeps the moisture in your tissues
and that said
keep a box of Kleenex near
the softest kind will feel most dear
and place your favorite pillow 'neath your head.
It's good to keep some chicken soup on hand
it's value has been known throughout the land
keep the heat on, be a ***** and
and crack the window just a pinch
and try to sleep as much as you can stand.
in time you will recover from this hell
your symptoms will subside and you can tell
but be sure to keep your guard up,
avoid crowds
and don't be hard up,
just insist they keep their distance,
and stay well!
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 9:44 AM UTC
chugging nyquil
with black haired girls
in the bathroom, with my bones shivering in anticipation
and cold,
at the same time
it hit half an hour later,
my hands are covered in charcoal
my thoughts are sinking to the
muddy bottom,
i stare at the space just above the clock for a little,
swaying to the rhythm
"why'd you only call me when you're high?"
well,
i'm not high
but i'm drifting somewhere in between
and i only wish
i could hear your voice.
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
Paxil to make you happy
**** to make you high
Nyquil to make you sleep
Energy shots to make you active
I’m told to feel a certain way
Suddenly heartbreak doesn’t feel sad
And tears don’t feel salty anymore
Love doesn’t feel good at all
And pain is something I can’t feel
A drug filled world is where I live.
Prozac to make you glad
Mary Jane to make you rad
Atarax to make you tired
Dayquil to make you work
Living life sounds make believe
A drug filled world I where I live
Zoloft to make you smile
Mushrooms to make you fly
Tylenol to make you weak
Aleve to make you strong
I’m losing my mind
My heart seems to have stopped
And my mind can’t control me anymore
A drug filled world is where I live.
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 9:50 PM UTC
I breathe you.
I breathe you in the first breath I take every morning
I taste you in the NyQuil I have to abuse before I can sleep
I see you in the purple dreams I remember every night
NIGHTMARES
I have nightmares of you.
I nightmare you in my inadequacy and my ignorance
I nightmare you in my clothing and the way I cut my hair
I nightmare you in the tumblr girls I reblog
*I nightmare you in the way my breath shortens when I can't breathe you and when I don't want to breathe you.
Asthma attack, you're my air and I loathe you
I want to suffocate but I can't keep suffering like this*
I NEED AIR.
REAL AIR.
NOT THIS HELL.
I want to breathe air.
I don't want to breathe you.
I want to dream dreams,
Not nightmares.
You have total grasp of my mind
And you don't even know.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
one time I was thinking about money.
and it was late at night.
I don't remember what I was thinking
oh yea I had just started this new business
get rich quick scheme
pyramid of sorts
and I was planning and plotting
planning and plotting on how I would make hundreds of
thousands of dollars
by the end of the year
I couldn't sleep
it must of been
well past midnight
I had taken in a woman
a homeless woman
we made a whole day out of it
smoked synthetic marijana
she was coming down off of herione
and I couldn't sleep .
I went to CVS
to buy
nyquil
so I could sleep
in my bed
back home
next to this beautiful creature I had brought home.
we prayed that day
and cried
together
I was thinking so hard about that money
I went into the CVS
i had no shoes on ,
snobbishly
I picked my items
and I was thinking so hard
about that money.
the guy .
the guy at the counter runs my card
and it won't go though
the outrage I thought
I was thinking so hard about that money
I musta had like a couple dollars in my bank,
I had spent it all
on that synthetic marijuana.
but I was snoobish
and thinking hard about that money,
and he started to look faint
and I swear my glare didn't change ,
my face remained the same
emotionless
and I was thinking so hard about that money
it was well past midnight
and I was thinking so hard about that money
he started to get white
and my expression remained the same
and I was thinking so hard about that money
and he stumbled from behind the counter
he didn't look so good
it was well past midnight
and I was thinking so hard about that money
and then he got sick
and my expression didn't change
and my card wouldn't go through
and nobody cared.
and I was thinking so hard about that money,
and I wanted to steal those items,
and I was outraged that my card didn't go through
and I didn't help him,
I still can't believe I didn't help him,
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 11:05 PM UTC
So I did what I've been conditioned to do
I texted my ex
At least ten times
I didn't call him baby
Or say I love you
I just asked him to talk to me
Because I was feeling suicidal
He didn't even reply
I confessed this to the man I
Actually love, the saint in my life,
And he asked why I didn't come to him
For the comfort I was seeking
But "Hey babe, I really want to pass out face
Down in a bubble bath after drinking two
Bottles of NyQuil so that I can just drown"
Isn't a great pickup line
But he's my best friend
He looked so hurt
Not by my not coming to him
But my thoughts of suicide
He couldn't fathom why I'd wish myself
Dead
And it was as though he was starting into my soul
"That's the thing about relationships" he started
"Your boyfriend is supposed to be your best friend"
He promised he'd always come
He's always going to be here for me
And I've never loved anyone more
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 8:31 PM UTC
Paxil to make you happy
**** to make you high
Nyquil to make you sleep
Energy shots to make you active
I’m told to feel a certain way
Suddenly heartbreak doesn’t feel sad
And tears don’t feel salty anymore
Love doesn’t feel good at all
And pain is something I can’t feel
A drug filled world is where I live.
Prozac to make you glad
Mary Jane to make you rad
Atarax to make you tired
Dayquil to make you work
I’m fumbling in ecstasy
Living life sounds make believe
My reflection looks old and weary
An old soul has more zing than me
I can’t get pleasure even from me
A drug filled world I where I live
Zoloft to make you smile
Mushrooms to make you fly
Tylenol to make you weak
Aleve to make you strong
I’m losing my mind
There is no strength even in my finger tips
My legs search for a firm grip
My heart seems to have stopped
And my mind can’t control me anymore
A drug filled world is where I live
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:28 AM UTC
My life is mostly the same some
Times I feel the need to
Spice it up
I took it before I left my house
The ride to
School was average. Small talk
With my Mother little does she know how tricked my body is
A small screen lit up my dark restless night. And the little green vessels meet the average sunrise
Everything is average
Zoning out as usual, average until suddenly .
My head how it spins like a Saturday night of drinking. My head how it bobs about like a Sunday morning regret.
The choir sings the preacher commands me to repent my sins
I can't take it back. And I wouldn't
Id rather stare at the walls all night depriving myself of the one thing my body wants most and fight it in the morning
Little does the preacher know that I don't give a **** about what's in my textbook. The congregation is engaged in the service little do they know that world war 3 has begun in my head
Blood fills the pews battle smells permeate
Personal poisons are subjective and on this morning,,ironically,,nyquil is my choice thank god for liquicaps the syrup is god awful
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC