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I flinch at the sound of your names
fading fast in my fickle mind
I am too much for their smiles.
my heart is too calloused
my brain too chained
my skin too stained with ink and blood.
but my soul is still on fire,
at least that’s what my mouth says.
when it can speak out and up
my eyes run dry and my throat is a desert.
I can’t seem to see my wall of truth.
I am not enough for you.
We are too young to be losing friends like this.
Do me a favor and if you’re ever feeling hopeless and alone and feel like you want to die, please reach out for help. Please hold on for another second, another minute, another hour, day, week, month, year. Eventually it will get easier.
I loved your smile and your voice, you were so full of life, and that summer that you were up in jersey still remains one of my favorite summers of all time.
rest peacefully beautiful.
Apathy is my mortal enemy.
I’m in a really weird place. I’m not making work. I’m not motivated to make work. I don’t have any new ideas.
I’ve gotta figure something out that’s going to work for me. I’ve got a thesis to plan for.
off to go learn about power tools…this could be dangerous.
art school as a life teaching technique.
The second time I overdosed,
my body couldn’t handle it,
and I threw it all up.
I texted my dad saying,
“I think I took a little too many pills”.
And every time I’ve overdosed,
I always downplay it.
I’ve always tried to act
like it wasn’t a big deal.
That having the urge to swallow a whole bottle of pills
was something daily that normal people do.
My dad hurried home and saw the empty bottle
and he shook me to make sure I was awake.
I kept mumbling “I threw it up.. I threw it up..”
while I was drifting off to sleep.
He had to wake me up every 15 minutes
to make sure I was okay.
Let me tell you now,
it is a big deal.
The third time I overdosed,
I slept through first and second period
and passed out in the counselor’s office.
I didn’t want to go to the ER.
I just wanted to go home.
All I wanted to do was sleep.
Again, I just said,
“I think I took too many pills this morning.”
The fifth time I overdosed,
my dad found the empty pill box.
I hallucinated, I had a fever.
I couldn’t move my legs.
All I could do was scream,
“Don’t take me to the hospital this time.
I don’t want to go!”
I became friends with a girl who had overdosed
she’s one of my best friends now
and when I heard she was hospitalized as well,
it just makes me realize how real this problem is.
A couple months ago, another friend of mine overdosed.
Do you realize how fucked up it is,
that I’ve done it so many times
that I know the exact procedure that she’s going to go through?
She messaged me saying,
“I took a bunch of pills,
but I just realized I didn’t want to die.
I don’t know what to do.
And I’m screaming at her over the screen
that she should throw it up and call 911
because sometimes when someone you love
decides that they hate the world,
that’s all you can do.
You can’t teleport through the phone.
You can’t travel through the internet.
You can’t be there to hold them
and take them to the hospital.
Your love is not charcoal that can
absorb all their poison in their life.
I know, love that you would have done all you could.
Sometimes words aren’t enough.
Sometimes love isn’t enough.
Sometimes a person needs to try dying
to know that that’s not really what they want.
There’s nothing you could have done.
You’ve done all you could.
Just keep loving them.
But you see the thing is,
I got lucky.
I’ve made it back from 5 overdoses
without a scratch on me.
But that’s not always the case.
My favorite teacher’s stepdaughter
locked herself in her room and overdosed.
To this day,
her stepmother still has a scar on her heart.
To this day,
on the anniversary of her death,
her stepmother still stays home from school
on the anniversary of her death.
Her sister is in a bad mental state,
and so is her biological mother.
Her family has fallen apart.
You overdose because you think
you will get a peaceful release from death.
It’s not peaceful.
It is not like falling asleep.
It is convulsions, vomiting,
muscle spasms, fevers,
and sharp stomach pains.
An overdose is not instant.
Hollywood has you believing,
that an overdose
is how a lady should exit the world.
As quiet as she came in,
Peaceful and unnoticed.
You will go out kicking and screaming
and wishing you hadn’t taken them.
6:03 p.m. (I think I’m done overdosing)
Dedicated to Rae
It’s been a year since I ODed. It’s not pretty, it’s not a kind way to go. Most of the time you just end up in the hospital scared shitless with your family looking at you like you stabbed them in the heart.
There are other options other than suicide. There are other options that wont leave you mistrusted and scared and alone. There are other options that will make you feel alive and whole again.
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