"relapsed" poems
(gulp)
Couldn’t resist a minute more.
Relapse.
I again…
After six months sober...
Here.
In this pain I know all too well.
Ten years lost to this drug my veins ache for.
First breath in the morning and last thought at night, all consumed by it.
Every cell in me craves it.
That physical euphoria my body portraits.
Feels like someone has poured pure joy into every single muscle and fiber of my being.
It makes me feel so content
Every single bit of me is singing and buzzing with life and love.
It's like the ecstasy of ******* that first blissful, pleasurable pulsation of endorphins and serotonin.
This is what I feel when I first take LOVE.
And then...
And then, the honeymoon stage is over.
Fights erupt.
Never-ending debates.
Miscommunications.
Misperceptions.
No trust.
Accusations.
Lies.
“I’m done...”
…
Again, it feels like a part of my soul is leaving my body.
Again, sitting here numb.
A toxic love...
I’m addicted to,
And there’s no way around it.
It’s already deep intertwined with my veins.
Yet, no matter the toxic, tragic event that happened before, I sit here, and I want nothing more than to spend my life next to this soul.
To see his eyes unchanged as the skin around it wrinkles and grows old is what my heart will always desire— to stare at those eyes for the rest of eternity.
Dead air…
So here I’ll wait, until you decided to come into my life again and repeat this déjà vu.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
last year
i promised myself that i would never be sad anymore.
but boy did i break that promise
i sunk back into anorexia
i relapsed to selfharm
i became suicidal
but once again i promised myself to be happy.
but everytime relapses came faster
and they were a lot stronger
last week i made the same promise.
and here i am in my bed
writing the same suicide notes over and over again
happiness just isn't for me
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
I relapsed last night
As the knife met my skin
and introduced itself
Over and over again.
I'm disappointed with myself
I shouldn't harm my skin
I'm losing every battle
Because I refuse to win.
- N. Morin
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 12:56 PM UTC
I haven't done it in a while,
But seeing the faded outline of my friends,
The scars that make me feel calm,
Made me want them back
I used to run my fingers along the cuts
As if I was reading braille to soothe my head;
Because I felt like those fresh wounds,
Were my only friends along with my blades
Those blades and the scars that accompanied them were something I could count on,
No matter how bad my day was I could cry all night
And sit in the bathroom mirror and talk to myself as I stared into my own eyes
Letting my blade dance across my skin,
Leaving a beautiful red trail;
The stinging sensation that came after that turned into the blissful pleasure,
That wonderful feeling I once loved was something I couldn't remember
Until today;
I wasn't even sad at the moment
It was just something my mind drove me to do out of sheer nostalgia
Because seeing the faded outlines of my scars
Counting each one replaying the night I created them
And remembering how close they were to me and that they were once my friends
Brought it all back;
So I threw a little self-harm depression party once again,
I created this little get together
And invited those old friends and demons of mine
Where my blade once again danced
And my scars then cried red;
Where I stared into my dark chocolate brown eyes
And let tears of my own claw their way out;
Where I smiled and laughed, talking to myself saying how much I missed the stinging pleasure
And relapsed again for the first time in a while
I thought about how what I was doing was something so wrong
And I told myself I was sadistic for laughing because I missed the sensation
But my god does it feel so right
I guess that's why so many people
Do all these things that slowly **** them;
Just as I do with self-harm...
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
I have so much love to give
What is this life
If I cannot share it with someone
What is this life
If all of this love I have
Is all wasted just on little old me.
In this life passion is the why
And you are the how
But who are you
And how can I life this life
Without you by my side?
I miss making dinner and the late night tickle fights
More than that I miss the intimacy
I miss the foot rubs after a day at work
I miss the way you're a dork
I miss loving someone.
I am meant to love
I meant to give it up
But then I relapsed and fell
It was then I realized that I'm miserable
Without this funny thing called "love".
Now society tells me to be a strong woman
But, who says I can't be strong
Along with someone
Be stronger together
Ordinary apart, extraordinary together
That is way I want
But, it is too much to ask.
So I'll have all of this love to give
And just wait for the next who is worth of it.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 9:47 PM UTC
You had a great life ahead of you
Knew exactly what you were gonna do
But the higher you rose, the further you fall
Now you realize you've lost it all.
'Cause when you stuck that needle in your arm
You got caught up in an evil demon's charm.
Now the drug's the master of your mind
Ruining all that it shall find
The drugs are rotting out your brain
Driving you insane
Addiction's locked you down in chains
So the demon takes the reins
Demon's Charm ruling you
Demon's Charm ruining you
Demon's Charm killing you
Demon's Charm rotting out your brain.
You cower an quake with endless fright
Never again will you see the light
The high has worn off, you feel the pain
Hurry it up, shoot it up again
You crave the fix,
You're feeling sick,
You need it quick,
Your shoulders shake and quiver
When you finally get your fix
The pleasure makes you shiver
The drugs are rotting out your brain
Driving you insane.
Addiction's locked you down in chains
So the demon takes the reins
Demon's Charm ruling you
Demon's Charm ruining you
Demon's Charm killing you
Demon's Charm rotting out your brain.
You say you're gonna quit
But there's a war inside your head
Should you cave and take a hit
Or something else instead
You know you need to get clean soon
Or else you'll soon be dead
Now in rehab, darkness is all you see.
The dark white walls surrounding you.
Only during sleep your mind is free.
The withdrawal is killing you,
Only comfort is how good it will be
When your tired mind is free.
The drugs are rotting out your brain
Driving you insane
Addiction's locked you down in chains
So the demon takes the reins
Demon's Charm ruling you
Demon's Charm ruining you
Demon's Charm killing you
Demon's Charm rotting out your brain.
It was going good.
You'd kicked the habit
Then you relapsed
And your life collapsed
Your psyche snapped
And now you're trapped
In an endless cycle .
Swimming in misery
Darkness imprisons you
Pain and loathing all you see
While praying to god on bended knee
To let the pain and misery end.
The drugs are rotting out your brain
Driving you insane
Addiction's locked you down in chains
So the demon takes the reins
Demon's Charm ruling you
Demon's Charm ruining you
Demon's Charm killing you
Demon's Charm rotting out your brain.
Your sanity is shattered.
You're broken and battered
Lost everything that mattered
Curl up and stare at the sky
Kiss your old life goodbye
Curl up and wait to die
The drugs killed and ruined your life
You now stand on the edge of a knife
While the demon runs through your veins
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 1:22 PM UTC
Like a drug addict
I've gone to rehab and rehab and rehab.
I've relapsed and relapsed and relapsed.
Like a drug addict
I've learned to survive
Without those chemicals mixing signals in my brain.
I've learned that I can get by
Without the nicotine, the alcohol, the **** the *******
I can get by
Without the little spike of adrenaline
I feel when I'm in the same room as them.
Like a drug addict,
I've learned to survive
When you are not in the room
I've learned to get by
without the spike of adrenaline
I feel when you get close enough to touch me
Like a drug addict
I went through withdrawals
Because the doctors say a psychological addiction
Is worse than a physical addiction.
Like a drug addict
My only name is anonymous
Unless it is accompanied by you.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
this year:
the one person i thought was my soulmate left my life without so much as one word
i fell out of love with the first girl i fell in love with
i was reunited with someone i hoped would be my new mother
i was repeatedly disappointed
i met the most amazing friend i only ever imagined having
i quit my job
i got a new job
i fell in love with a pathological liar
i went to my grandfather's funeral
i was lied to by the pathological liar (surprise!)
i was there for her when she went to detox
i was there for her when she relapsed
i had a rather epiphanic moment where i was brought to inexplicable sobs and repeated screams on my knees saying "help me" in desperate hopes of being heard by some unknowable God
i quit the new job and got hired back at the old one
i lost trust in all humans, including myself
i moved in with my dad
i got to know the depths of fragility
i was manipulated and in turn, i manipulated
i had random panic attacks
i met Regina Spektor
i wrote poems
i wrote songs
i painted
i read books
i drank a lot of coffee
i smoked many cigarettes
i laughed less
i cried less
i felt less
i denied anti-depressants
i worked on letting go of unhealthy persons, including my mother
which lead to learning the repetitive lesson that overnight success does not exist
i booked a flight to Mississippi
i learned how to be alone without being lonely
i became even more infatuated with the moon
i wanted to die,
i'm still alive.
i made mistakes,
i learned from them.
this year has been a whirlwind, a teenage drama gone half right topped with a questionable ending
2013, here i come.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 3:13 AM UTC
-A Psalm Of Johnson When He Relapsed Back Into A Shameful Sin
Wash my filthy iniquity with your word off my skin,
And Lead me with your hand back on the straight path free of sin.
Jul 10, 2021
Jul 10, 2021 at 9:17 PM UTC
I have this little pencil pouch
that I stuff scraps of paper in,
"happy memories,"
and when I'm feeling down
I'll reach in, swish them around,
and pull out a few
to remind me of better times.
They're all kinds of memories:
big, significant moments,
funny or sweet quotes,
little nothings I don't even remember
until I read them later.
Today one was, "I threw away
my last two blades 6.12.14"
Now, this one was pretty **** major.
I used to have cutting kits,
blades hidden everywhere,
and one always
always
on my person,
just in case I needed it quick.
I remember my first cut
with scary clarity.
I was ten.
I'm twenty-six now.
Sixteen years I've been
haphazardly coping
in all the wrong ways.
More than half of my life
was consumed with the evolution
of my methods.
Maybe you can understand,
just a little bit,
how incredibly terrified
and yet empowered
I felt on 6.12.14
when I opened my palm
and watched those last two
faulty escapes fall into the trash.
Every day since has been a struggle,
but I haven't relapsed once.
I've thought about it,
dear lord have I thought about it,
but I've refrained,
forced to just rub the scars
running across my porcelain skin.
I feel like I've been battling
these hellish urges forever,
so when I opened that slip of paper
and read it, comprehended the date,
I wasn't proud at all.
6.12.14
I broke down, instant tears.
All this struggling I've been doing,
and it hasn't even been two months.
Not even two measly ******* months.
If this is what "staying clean"
from my ******** addiction
feels like in just the first
month and a half,
I'm not going to make it.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
*Like all beautiful things, love came,
Showered sweet dreams from stars above,
One day, he left without my name
Leaving me like a mourning dove.
What are vows if they are relapsed?
That’s how this heart gently collapsed.
Glass broken into sore pieces,
Lived my days in poison kisses.*
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
Earlier I relapsed
Cutting away my woes and letting my pain seep out;
But then I stopped,
Realizing how many promises I was breaking
And how many hearts I was shattering
I felt weak in my knees
Falling to the ground I cried
Ashamed and guilty
How could I do such a thing to those I love?
Panic set in,
I can't let anyone know
Because I don't want to go back to that hell
That cursed and wretched psychiatric hospital
That's more like a prison with schedules and timed everything;
Painted over windows and white walls that hold tallies of torturous days and child-like scribbles
That makes it more of a trigger than everything else
But soon enough I gathered myself;
I took a hot shower,
And stood in front of the mirror practicing my smile
While I planned what outfits to wear with foundation to hide what I've done
So now all is okay and fine,
And I'm alright;
At least,
I think so...
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 8:43 PM UTC
My day wasn't unsuccessful.
I got what done what I needed to get done.
I think the same song has been on repeat all afternoon.
Wine drunk, staring out the window.
And I mean really drunk.
And I certainly mean really staring.
It's so foggy here up on this hill.
All you can see is a blur.
The very bottom of the blur is orange,
But that is just because of the streetlights
That are out in the parking lot.
The rest of the blur is purple,
But an orange-y purple.
It kind of hurts your eyes to look at it.
But it is beautiful and sad,
And not sad like how your mother hits you
Or your cat gets cancer
Or you relapsed after four months.
It's sad like when you realize
You're 4/5ths through an amazing movie,
Or when you see a surprise military homecoming
Or you unpack in a new home.
My room mate won't be back
Until much later.
I don't mind.
I need some time
To get wine drunk and stair out the window.
And be sad.
But it's not quite as beautiful as the blur.
That's okay anyway.
I'm in love with my fiance.
And my best friend.
And my cat.
And my little sister.
And all my new dresses
That I ordered on cyber Monday.
I'll be doing just fine when they come in.
When I make it through the orange-y purple blur.
Pray for me.
Because my toes are cold,
And so are my arms, and my cheeks, and my chest.
But my eyes and my outspoken tongue are on fire.
Mark Twain asked this,
And now I want to know, too.
Why didn't anyone ever pray for Satan?
Hundreds of centuries have gone by,
And no one prayed for the man
Who could have used your kind words
The very very most?
WHY?
No one is praying for Satan,
Someone better pray for me.
Maybe one of your gods will take pity.
None of mine have.
But they say I'll be doing just fine when those dresses come in.
You know?
When I make it through the blur.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 5:05 PM UTC
Im Losing Myself
In My Own Dark Thoughts.
Getting Caught Up in A Knot,
Then Twirling & Creating Bigger 1s
I Need Help, But im Now Alone
Don't have A Place To Turn
Without Being Judged Or Criticized
Reminded Of All My Wrongs
And Broken Promises.
Of My Dishonesty.
I Need Support, The Ones To
Speak Positively.
The Ones To Tell Me Im Only Human, everyone Makes mistakes.
That Everything will be alright.
I Relapsed
My Thoughts Got The best of me.
Yet i Confess
& Get Treated Harshly
Were in That, is Showing me a reason to Stay sober.
Getting Treated Like A Bad person
Making me feel all sorts of negative
Feelings, is Just going
To make me question?
Why Should i Be Sober.
Confessing Made Everything worse
Instead Of Support
I Get Thrown Everything i Have done incorrectly.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 8:01 AM UTC
The day you left me
I lost my mind in a bottle of Svedka,
And found the old me
Hiding in a blade.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
I once tried to get drunk off of hand sanitizer
On a bad night when I yelled at you
After you seemed to fall asleep
But I think it was the night you relapsed
How else would I know
How Purell tastes?
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
It was written in the beginning, a beginning before Britain, before folklore, gore and war. A beginning then, when the lords created, decorated and separated the night and also the bright, bright light. Therefore, a delight! In the beginning, creating the seven ways of days and the rays. The birth of earth, the black ravens, the havens and the heavens. A beginning of clean slates, dreams, schemes and themes!
As I blink and wink, badly and sadly I think… An ending, with fate or an ending with no ascending or commending date? Let’s debate and negotiate! A beginning, of Pharaohs, their arrows and the sparrows. An ending of sorrow? A beginning, borrowed from our hour’s tomorrow? An ending, I deem, that forever bends, defends, depends, pretends and never, ever seems to end. The heavens specialties and
hell’s cruelties. Governments and their restraints! Negative and positive lengths and strengths. A beginning and an ending; betrayed and strayed, long before many of us were to play or say. Stories of cities, glories and their pities! Starving nations and Haitians! Expensive vacations and relations! The elapsed and relapsed! Perhaps, the mishaps and disruption of our corruption’s eruption and ending
destruction? Hey! I say, let’s turn a page past the basked, the masked and vast. A fold past the cages that enrage-rage, wage and old age.
The detained delights, the petty fights and plights. Why can’t we each reunite? Unite forever! Drop and stop this harm and fight. Fly into the night, together with our almighty arms and mighty charms. Primarily, in the beginning or ending, let us not negatively but too positively and ultimately amend! Children, men and women, amen.
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 8:18 AM UTC
*Maybe he lost my number
Maybe he forgot where I live
Maybe he's out on vacation
Maybe he's tied up with classes
Maybe he had a relative die
Maybe his brother relapsed
Maybe he's... still sleeping
Maybe he has amnesia
that would explain how
he could just forget everything*
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
i am the sum of my worst parts.
i am best friends with my loathing,
i dress all my nightmares in sheep's clothing.
i tell my mother they're friends of mine,
i tell my mother i am fine.
we were terrible actors but, god, were we good at memorizing the lines.
but we both know that nothing’s worse than insincerity.
i think i was so lost i couldn’t stand being found.
it was all i knew, my old paint under the new.
you know what it’s like,
you get stuck in a sadness so sweet
you almost mistake it for something you deserve.
you become comfortable.
it’s a process, cut my losses
relapsed back into my sadness and all my bad habits,
begging you to lick the wine and water off my lips,
the way you grip my hips,
just press me down into the sheets until i don’t exist.
we wrote an album full anthems and we couldn’t carry a **** tune.
you’re just a big bleeding heart, an open wound of a person
and everybody loves you
and everybody hates you
like the radio hit that made their favorite band big.
so this is for all the times you were told to bite your tongue
but you were so tired of bleeding.
this is for all the times you opened your mouth
but never spoke.
this is for all the times you talked to fill the air
but never really said anything.
you are what you think. you are what you say. you are what you do.
but, maybe most importantly, you are what you don’t do.
because what if icarus had been cautious?
what if icarus had never left the ground?
i guess one way to love somebody is when they're never around,
and i guess there’s people like that;
those who only want to hear songs they’ve already heard.
there’s people like that, those who don’t want to learn anything
that they don’t already know.
there’s people like that, those who don’t like to question things.
science and god sit at the dinner table as lovers.
they say their vows in verse,
in a thousand different languages.
neither of them have the whole story,
but together, i’m told sometimes they make a lot of sense.
science and god sit at the dinner table as equals.
art and wonder and the human spirit are their children.
love may be a myth, but it’s my favorite one.
we do not age at the dinner table
we do not know hate at the dinner table
we spit bullets and grow flowers into vases.
we knock elbows, and argue, and love, and reconcile, and praise.
we spill wine not blood.
we do not know hate at the dinner table.
and i find, at the dinner table, seated
between past and present
between heart-ache and hopefulness
between glory and insignificance
i am not so lonely.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
The truth about my recovery?
I lied
I told the truth
I was better.
So much better
a different person
truly, really,
not the me that was dying to die a year previous.
for six years the monsters consumed me
It starts so subtle.
She’s skinnier.
‘No I’m on a diet’
‘I’m a size 0’
your best friend skips lunches.
slowly, surely, the monster slips into your head.
your nightmares are living
compulsions start.
too young.
don’t eat in front of people.
one granola bar will get you through practice until home.
and all the comments egging you on.
‘you aren’t skinny enough for that..’
‘but if you eat salad all summer’
Soon you can’t look at yourself.
Soon the Monster of self hatred turns you to more
because the diets aren’t enough
so spring break after a bowl of corn chips
you close the bathroom door
and the porcelain becomes your ally.
friends may know.
but you can be sneaky.
after all, how else would you manage your size?
Eventually it isn’t enough, you want quicker results.
And the monsters of self hatred are eating you up.
you’ve grown now of course.
pushed away friends who knew who wanted you to get help.
Because this Monster, This darkness in your mind,
your only friend.
No more food.
leave crumbs and a buttered kife.
anything eaten, behind the bathroom door.
And very soon
The blades come out to play.
So intriguing how easy it is.
and how simple to hide.
What an easy release.
17 and 110 lbs, covered in scars on her hips.
I did get help.
I went to therapy.
I loved it.
I didn’t just change these acts
I changed myself.
But I wasn’t better, I was anxious
to be done with it
to be set free.
So I stopped going.
when I wasn't totally ready.
I thought I was happy..
But is that why I relapsed?
It was only once.
But is that why I still find myself depressed?
Sometimes suicidal?
Is it my fault?
It’s usually my fault so I can see how it would be.
I lied.
That’s the truth.
And
*I
Don’t
Know.*
But I do know
this recovery is a continuous fight.
And I just wonder
Where am I now?
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
When you relapse
You feel nothing but shame
Shame makes you want to hurt yourself
And nobody even knows when you feel this shame
You want someone to take you into their arms and hug you
You want to pour out all your feelings of hatred and disgust for yourself
But the thoughts in your mind mean absolutely nothing to them
And they won't hug you and listen to your words
You're just dealing with an addiction
Alone and full of self hate
And nobody knows
But you
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 7:52 PM UTC
January 1st
I woke up in bed next to you.
I had the flu.
January 5th
I wasn't sick anymore but I was so depressed.
January 7th
I called you crying hysterically.
By the end of the call...
You told me that you wanted a break.
January 9th
We decided to wait till I went back to Texas for the break though not speak at all from when I left to when I came back.
January 11th
I realized I was pregnant.
I called my best friend asking for a pregnancy test and a cigeratte.
I had stopped smoking for you when we got together.
January 12th
I boarded a plane.
I was so sick.
January 13th
I couldn't eat without getting sick.
January 14th
I couldn't drink water without throwing up.
My mom told me she was divorcing my dad.
I laid in bed all night in pain mentally screaming/praying for my baby to be okay.
January 15th
I woke up and had miscarried.
I was approximently 3-4wks pregnant.
I almost killed myself that night.
I didn't because I knew it would **** the guy I loved.
I layed in bed for a week. Didn't have the energy to eat let alone speak. I became so frail. So thin.
January 25th
I realized we weren't getting back together.
February 1st
I relapsed on pills.
February 4th
I was back in town.
I stayed the night at your house so my mom could talk to my dad.
We hadn't spoke in weeks.
By the end of the night we were us again.
However, you were so different in general.
February 6th
I overdosed on pills.
You sat there next to me.
Crying your eyes out.
Pleading with me to stop.
You sounded so angry and you were shaking.
I could hear the fear in your voice.
See how much you loved me in your eyes.
I stopped without a thought to it.
I couldn't hurt you.
February 7th
I had to go back to Texas again.
February 14th
You accidentally said you were my Valentine.
February 15th
You asked me about getting back together.
You backed out.
Time passed we were bestfriends yet there was more. I came back to town and you had a distance with me. After spring break I could feel you coming back to me.
April 18th
I was emotionally done.
I allowed myself to get manipulated.
I made the worst mistake.
I lost you.
April 19th
I tried to **** myself.
I chugged whiskey.
Then...
Chugged cleaning fluid.
It didn't work...
This entire year has been hell. All I think about is you and that baby. I still love you. I can't figure out how to get past this. Something in me has died. Died with that child. Died with losing you. Smiles aren't real. Happiness is pretend. It took me months to stop crying everyday. Yet I still find times where the tears won't stop coming. The pain is the only thing real. I just can't wait for this hellish year to be over.
Maybe then I can start new...
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 6:57 AM UTC
I know I have relapsed many times after I got out.
But What if, I end up slipping just once again?
Will iT Be it? Will you Get Up
And Pack Your ****
Or Will You Still Be Standing
Next to me
and help me get up and continue moving me forward.
Or Will You Just Give Up
And Let Me Go Deep further in my struggle.
What if I used, And Admitted it
Will You Look Angry
and say **** you.
Or look disappointed
and say it's okay I still got you.
If I Used and told you
when I should have let you known before
Will You throw me to the curb
Or try to understand its not that easy to just stop myself with
Having impulsive behavior.
What would you do
if I walked up to you being honest about relapse.
Would you forget me
and Mark me absent.
Or Would You Forgive me
and give credit for not keeping it from you.
If I Told You I Got So Tempted ,
My Mind Just Couldn't take ****
and I felt urged
so I smoked.
Would You Look at me straight saying sorry I did as Much as I could take and disappear.
Or Would you stay
and help me figure out solutions to resolve my urge feel to using?
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
He checked my wrists and thighs
He checked my stomach and my sides
He checked and said "Let me see if you've been cutting again"
He gave no warning.
No sign that he was going to do this in the last hour that I faced him.
He looked me up and down, eyes more serious than I've ever seen
I couldn't help but feel embarrassed that I let him down once before
I was embarrassed I relapsed and he was there to see me unravel.
"I've been good"
"I've been good"
"I've been good"
I felt like a child, repeating the sentence over and over
Our friends continuously asking what I meant and he simply says
"It's nothing."
But in his eyes I could see
To him it meant everything
So he checked
He checked my wrists and thighs
He checked my stomach and my sides
He hugged me tight and whispered softly
"Please stay good, I love you to much to lose you like that."
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC
Beauty so awkward.
Your flaws tell you you aren't thin.
Wish to change who you are cause of the discomfort
in your own skin.
Shed it like a snake.
wait for it to dry
and harden as time moves by.
I miss your old skin.
Beautiful with all it's imperfections.
Ignore your inner thoughts.
Slowly learn to resent them.
Writing these lines for you.
Snort them.
Quickly learn to adore them.
See it disappear
as it travels up your nostril.
You realize my words are in your system
and you no longer feel awful.
As you start to relax
you've realized you relapsed.
Words travel quick
and tickle your synapse. Fast forward
watch the timelapse as you reach the peak or should
I say the ****** This drug is so pure,
no errors of syntax.
Not even at your core yet
while I'm aiming at your cortex.
These are my words.
Become addicted to them.
Refer to them when your thoughts come in contact with deception.
Use my words to forcefully change your perception.
No more pain I promise.
Promise these words are honest and
honestly I'll keep convincing you of your
beauty till I'm exhausted.
Self esteem.
Here to lift it.
Even though I drifted and veered
from my intended path,
I'm here to help get rid of something
awful you refer to as your past.
Take my hand.
Extend mine to help you up.
Cause I've been on the ground too
when no one would simply show up.
You've been hurt.
Your wings are broken.
Let me mend them as a token
of appreciation for enlightening
the world with a smile so contagious
that would lead all to believe that
you're perfect.
perfection.
Not what I was searching
but that's what I stumbled upon.
Your scars make you perfect.
They make you human.
You exhale an excess of words
while I inhale. I feel the words
touring to my synapse making
my brain as warm as wool.
I guess even my own words
can make me fall in love with
someone
beautiful.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC