We huddled by the window
and used candles to spark our lighters.
I distracted your mom with small talk
while you fought the devil down to the middle
so we could spend one more night with the stars
I have to tell you though, I can't keep up.
You're too good at it and my body is too weak.
I knew the sun was the closest star, and we'd have to settle,
but I never thought we'd get so burned.
Now my stomach is twisting into knots.
Your mouth is sharing your every thought.
My body is crumbling beneath my weight.
You just can't keep a straight face.
So, I'll write and write all night again
in an attempt to discover some sort of truth.
We'll need something to justify this.
"It's not that we're addicted,
we just like being spun."
I don't like clenching my jaw for hours straight,
only managing to focus on pencils and paper clashing.
You can't possibly enjoy six straight hours of redundancy
in the form of computer or video games.
I don't like looking out the windows
only to find someone staring back at me.
You can't honestly tell me you like me this way
when I'm talking to shadows and falling into things.
"I just want to feel alive."
We won't feel very alive in a few hours
when it finally hits us that we did too much.
I'll still be awake at seven a.m.
trying to force promises out of my pen.
"Okay, maybe we're addicted."
We have given up everything.
We are puppets and dope is our master.
Author notes
experiences with i.c.e.
x.
of i n s i n c e r i t y
Comments
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We huddled by the window
and used candles to spark our lighters.
-that seems so lonely.
this is good. it seemed a bit disconnected though. (bare in mind i have worked for eight hours and my brain is mush, so it could easily not be).
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it is a jumbled mess. i wrote it in the middle of two week binge. i wasn't all there myself.
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"It's not that we're addicted,
we just like being spun."
absolutely perfect...I don't really know what to say about this one. just...just wow umm brilliant protrayal of spinning off on glass, ice, meth, tweak, whatever the hell you want to call it. Did this for three years straight between 16 and 19, took two years off and now I'm pretty much addicted to painkillers that I have to have to be able to walk most days.
It's a killer and reading this poem brought me back to the days on end spent awake with Methamphetimines and Final Fantasy. God what a good poem, thank you for sharing this.
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