Shirking duty when eyes meet,
Spellbound in such deep heat.
Tentacles probing,
Suction pads across sore lips,
Beaks of hardened stone.
Crystallize my veins,
Wanton hate turns shuddering pain,
Smoked glass to satiate.
A wizard at play,
Manipulates the fleshy beast,
Wings grow so pigs fly.
Hit me with your own. Easy to use tool if you’re having a hard timing counting syllables: Write a Haiku
I want someone to look at me like the stars shine in my eyes Like by my light they can see everything more clearly As if I illuminate even the darkest and most desperate of skies Brilliantly lighting up the night with my happiness To tell me that he’d like to lie in the curve […]
https://seremdipitous.wordpress.com/2016/06/23/stars-in-my-eyes/
Affection like a puppy, but with pulsars for eyes. Love it. – S
Note: I would love to hear from the rest of the addict community out there what they found to be their breaking point or share some experience with the damn cycle of relapse. Someone recently echoed my sentiments from bygone years…some of us are only allowed further suffering. There are existences that truly prove death to be a relief – active addiction is a great example. Please share, I know I’m not the only lunatic, chronic relapsing, seemingly deathwished addict out there having adventures when they want boring….I think. Thanks! -s
To anyone who ho has been following this blog, my apologies for the extended delay in posting….it has been a remarkably fucked up couple weeks.
I relapsed. I overdosed 3 hours after leaving one detox and was thrown from the car I was in onto someones front lawn. The police were called and I was resuscitated.
I left the hospital and went back to the house of the “friends” who had chucked me out and went on a coke shooting binge.
Two days later I had found a bed at another detox. Unfortunately, I use with the same intensity that I do everything else…so while it wasn’t an extended run, it was more than my body could handle.
When I showed up, my green haired angel started to help me get in and I simply collapsed. The ambulance took me to another hospital where it was found that I did indeed have an abscess forming on one arm, a blood clot on the other with the beginning of cellulitis, and most importantly, my kidneys were failing and there was concern that dialysis would be needed.
Makes sense when you consider that I hadn’t had anything to drink other than some wine in about 3 or 4 days.
I had been hallucinating earlier in the day which should have been a big warning. I had a conversation with a man while walking down a road about the quality of the train system running to Philadelphia…after blinking it was a bit frightening to find that in reality I had been standing still and there was no one there.
Took me right back to the meth days.
Eventually I left that hospital…lost my mind at the doctor for reasons I don’t fully understand. That miserable fucking shit sack decided that since I was leaving AMA he was not going to give me a prescription for antibiotics despite the fact they were giving them to me IV and as Bactrim pills. Not very positive karma from my side, but I hope he finds himself in a position someday where the hippocratic oath he took is ignored in the same way he did for me.
I left partially because I was starting to see red and wanted more than anything to break that fuckers teeth out the back of his throat….I might have been a bit crazy.
Turns out crazy was right…I’ve never been completely hysterical before. Waiting for my angel to show up again, I was sitting in a parking lot, sobbing, laughing, and yelling simultaneously. Everyone I spoke with on the phone that had previously offered help started getting scared and decided to bail.
There’s still only one person in the world that I can trust to always be there beside my mother – Misha. She took me to yet another hospital, spent the night with more IVs and going nuts….
Since I was homeless again, she helped me find a place to stay with a couple individuals that understood the madness I was going through.
Eventually I made it back into the same detox facility that I had tried to get to previously.
I completed it, and will be moving to another “sober living house”. I have multiple probation violations, new court dates, and am relying completely on my family for financial support like a child and not a 29 year old.
Fucking addiction.
Fucking disgusting.
I hurt so many people that I truly cared about and who cared about me with this relapse. I’m sorry to you if you happen to read this to the one who introduced me to country music and taught me to dance – and to the one who always floats on the outside of my thoughts. I’m an idiot, but you already know that.
And to my “neverland” – you know what I would say to you. You’re my everything.
Totally burned out from my own stupidity.
I’m a bundle of rubber bands soaked in gas and shot from the pointer finger of a child into a hornets nest occupied recently and hanging ominously over the heads of the “citizens” I interact with and think I care about.
Marbles on the floor.
Bloated pig boy climbing a greased pole with a pit of leaches for incentive.
A wobbling top hatted cat man sans tail inviting strangers and catastrophe into other strangers homes.
I’m Murphy’s Law made flesh and bone. When Murph cuts me slack, I hack the rope.
A failed sexual attempt and that moment when you know it just ain’t going to happen. Suspended in that moment where a million statements collide with shame, curiosity, frustration, resignation, and humiliation is the tug boat that hauls my mental shipwreck offshore to sink.
I’m birds glued to a windshield.
I’m an emotional, meat bodied Golem running on a baseline lizard brain and no directive.
It’s exhausting…shouldn’t be…doesn’t have to be. No one need get hurt emotionally. I think the drunken assembly team floating out in the ether had an apprentice on shift for when the wiring went in. Fuck.
Kicked out of yet another program last year….this time on my birthday 2015. Hiked 23 miles through New Bedford and wound up shooting coke under a bridge to celebrate….detox the next day. Sigh…madness and mayhem on tap.
Suicide Blues
Information overload leaves a catatonic state,
Insane flashbacks that babbling never slakes.
So, I’ll lift a glass or grab a spoon,
Always a delight to numb out while speeding towards one’s doom.
Sweet and luscious memories deride me in a torrent,
So, I’ll hit it twice and blank it out till I become abhorrent.
Streets, infections, jails, and horrifying youth,
Tweaked out, blacked out, cracked out, hiding from a truth.
It hides behind each one I take, lurking in the corner,
A queasy feeling critter all sewn up dark,
“Truth” is my last remaining mourner.
With bulging eyes and clasping paws it looks comfort to provide,
But I’ll show it how, I’m living now, in ghastly fear and pride.
Battering awareness until thinking is a chore,
Wish it didn’t taste so good or I’d be less a whore.
So feed me everything you’ve got –
The booze, the pills, the lines, the rock.
Pump it in as fast you can until I’m outlined in chalk.
Eventually all will fade away and leave behind my friend,
“Truth” says that all this time it was just fine to reach out for an end.
I could have saved my aching skull from cracking at the ridge –
It’s too late now though, and all I dream of is hanging from a bridge.
Misha
Spoken word for a special someone who holds me together when I’m on the edge. I don’t know what I’d do without. With heartfelt thanks, and wishing you the recognition you deserve.
Spoken word is coming shortly…if you haven’t seen it, I’d really love to hear some of your own work…take a look at the Studio34 for the listing if you don’t see it a post or two down. Cheers!
She told me in a voice that wants for something more,
“I’m stuck with you and you with me,
But I don’t want to be stuck,
I just want to be happy.”
Simple words of wisdom,
Drop out the only mouth from which I tend to listed.
All around life is in tatters again,
It’s a battle of just going and going,
Churning up the ground as I try for traction.
People ask if I even know what I want,
It would be easier to drop my head in the sand,
No one wants to be confronted by the fact,
That survival doesn’t constitute a plan.
No goals
Just obligations.
Another sick hollow spot,
Self-indulgent in wasted life,
A never ending emotionless vacation.
The idea of walking a road with no end in sight,
Sounded so peaceful when I was younger.
I can’t be old enough to be this tired,
Those thoughts drag my feet,
Mired in mud six feet deep.
When you’re bound to the pipes,
The needles, the bottles, the pinners, the caps, the strips, the tabs and the doses,
The misery never knowing, always moving,
Chaotic insecurity, discomfort and the fear –
It’s easy to lose yourself in the haze,
No rag can clean vision so glazed.
Occasionally you need a multi-colored head of hair to show you that there is still more to be had.
That whatever tomorrow brings,
It’s worth holding steadfast to belief in something better.
Even if you have to lean on each other to get there.
She told me in a voice that wants for something more,
“I’m stuck with you and you with me,
But I don’t want to be stuck,
I just want to be happy.”
Looking for your word(y) contributions….
Anything and everything…spit fire or choke gargling on vomit…just a message in your own words.
Long night, long day.
Screeching whistles from the bat winged harpies playing in the sun.
I swear I put a dog collar over the tree stump last week,
Wonder what happened to the dog?
I should probably go out and check,
But now it’s impossible to tell through all their beaks.
Should have embellished the points of each ear,
Small silver trellises of moonlight into nursery rhymed eyes.
C’est la vie,
I’ve got a lockjawed dedication that demands fevered lacerations,
And if they leave a few eggs on the ground for breakfast this evening –
-so much the better.
Another lost basis of honor,
Failed mediums of drive,
A staccato rhythm of boots,
And the pending crinkle of the chains.
I wish you miserable excuses for people would leave me alone.
Just to be with myself and the few I love.
Instead, you force your fears into my comfy world,
And here I sit again…holding on by my nails and bated breath.
Stay the fuck away.
I’m sick of you,
The snap is going to be sharp and intense.
I’d beg you.
But you’d probably ignore it anyway.
So let me hold you close.
Into the abyss we can fall together.
To Ink - a blog from Melting Neurons 