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Malnourished

This poem talks about very sensitive subjects and could be triggering for some. Take care of yourselves.

Trigger Warnings // Drugs & Depression

I am addicted.
I am a feen for the drug of your attention.
A drop that is your love.
Strike down from above the bits that you leave for me.
It's not enough.
Now for a new chapter I write,
All the laughter in my sight.
I know nothing but pain.
The happiness is an llusion that guides me from myself to a calm place to be.
I think about you...
Every night of every day,
the times before I lay,
the words I speak before you are my beliefs.
Yet you ignore them.
They aren't taken in.
To you they're obsolete but to me it's what I eat.
I feed off the words you say to me.
Yet unlike a street drug this shouldn't cost money.
The love you give should be unconditionally for free.
I shouldn't have to ask or beg.
Things always get so complicated.
Words so powerful you should stop thinking about how it sounds to you, but how it sounds to me.
Drifting through the night my thoughts.
They line up into straight lines to be fired as a bullet from the gun used in combat.
My thoughts are a fight.
One so violent every hospital in a radius is in code black.
The comeback is the bed I lay.
A "Good Nights Rest" is only as good as the night.
So if you ask me how my sleep was and I say bad understand that this isn't sleep.
The word sleep has symbolic meaning behind it.
When someone says "I am going to sleep" it sounds peaceful.
So I didn't sleep.
I was knocked unconscious due to the severity of my wounds in a fight I didn't win.
Yet I still arise the next or same day with hours in the past and infinity in the future I wait.
Just cause I can now see the battlefield doesn't mean I can win.
It tease the inevitability of my lost.
Yet when I still hear that addiction can be cured I laugh.
Since every ounce of my Fentanyl called hope will always feel like a screen I use my laughter as my totem.
And only when the punchline is no longer painful will I know I've waken up.