It started in my family tree, a line of mental illness and addiction that landed on me.
I drink because they say it will help me forget your touch but I seem to forget my name before I ever forget yours.
A Painkillers isn't just a pill.
I smoke because every drag I take steals away a single beautiful moment of air from my lungs and reminds me everything I do slowly kills me.
A painkiller distracts you from what you feel.
I use to call it making love but that isn't the case anymore. I have sex because some nights you just want to feel the comfort of another person to not feel so alone in this fucked up all on you own world.
Because simple painkillers aren't always enough.
I don't like to think before i act because the rush of not knowing what could happen next makes me feel more alive and out of control than any drug I have ever done in the past. Every drug I have ever done in the past only numbs the pain for a few moments of excasty, not a painkiller.
Painkillers let the pain subside better than a drug induced suicide.
Okay, Take a breath Em.
I dye my hair a new color every week because some days I just feel like a clown, noticed and uncomfortable in my own skin like most. New color. New me. Maybe then I'd know who I was.
Painkillers, the only reason I'm still alive.
We all have things we do that numb the pain some are just destructive than others.
Painkillers.
YOU ARE READING
Strange Poetry
PoetryThis is a collection of my poetry from Narratives to Slam Poetry, Mostly Slam since I'm a slam poet. xD I hope you enjoy it. But real quick there are poems about substance abuse, anorexia, suicidal thoughts & rape so heres your warning.