Poems written the weekend before turning seventeen.
Tw: addiction
Rambles from the two thousand yard stare
A friend once told me when getting sober every addict comes to know the two thousand yard stare.
I have come to see it play out in my own life as well.
I don't think I've ever spent this much time getting to know the intricacies of my ceiling.
When the flooding of unnatural highs leaves, you're left hollow,
I feel void of who I was before getting bad again, like a candle that's been blown out.
I never thought I'd be here again, I didn't think I'd relapse and when I did I didn't intend to stop.
But this will be worth it.
My little dark age
It aches.
I thought I was better than this, somehow immune to the effects of stopping, yet here I am.
Today was my birthday. I saw my friends, I enjoyed my last blow of the candles before I am an adult.
I am still left empty. It all sits wrong. Nothing is feels right.
It's worse than last time. I've put myself through far worse since then.
I dont want to live anymore. Nothing makes sense at this point. I just can't keep pushing.
Nothing feels worth doing, food doesn't taste right, nothing satisfies me.
Nothing fills me up.
Schizophrenia
I hadn't heard anyone ever tell me they believed I was schizophrenic.
I knew. There's only so much you can hallucinate before you know, but I can't recall anyone saying it out loud until this point.
The false perceptions have grown to be exhausting and when I told him he said what I already knew.
They have grown to be quite troublesome.
The same sounds being heard for days on end. The muffled talking. Hearing her cry when nobody's home.
Maybe now that I see it, I can grow past it
YOU ARE READING
Candlelit midnights
شِعرA poetry book written during a darker time in my life, covering topics like addiction and relapse along with happy and romantic moments. Although the original title was different I choose this title to represent how writing was a light in the dark...
