Vision by Numbers

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by BelovedDreamer, Dec 22, 2006.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. BelovedDreamer

    BelovedDreamer Well-Known Member

    The four-hundred and seventy-sixth page written
    trying to rid you
    and everything I learned from you
    from my bones
    trying to rid myself
    of my bonds.
    The three-hundred sixtieth pill taken
    trying to rid myself of what the first one
    did to my mind
    round peach colored candy
    that’ll make it so I can’t
    think, care or move.
    It does its job though
    I’m no more capable of
    thinking suicidal thoughts
    than a plank of wood.
    But then, I can’t do my class work either
    and I’m just as likely to drive my car off a cliff
    difference is
    this time I won’t have meant to do it.
    A definite improvement.
    The twenty-first year
    since my first breath was taken
    nearly one since I first tried to pause that pattern
    seven months since that breath
    last caught in my chest
    at the sight of your back retreating.
    How I hate this as I sit here
    type, type, typing away.
    I wish I could call you
    and say I’m sorry for being a freak
    for being so young and so weak
    and so not myself.
    I wish I could call someone
    maybe you, maybe anyone who might understand
    just to say how scared I am
    and how much I grieve for what I might have to lose
    just to hold onto what I have left.
    This is hard
    coming to terms with the fact
    that a little pink pill fucked my life up so bad
    and so unnecessarily
    and has left me with such guilt
    and distrust
    towards myself
    towards the friend that abandoned me
    and the trigger that exploded my world.
    This is so hard
    trying to convince my self to open this bottle
    and swallow this peach emotional flatliner
    to say goodbye to that beautiful girl
    with her broken heart
    to say goodbye to that moment I’m still holding onto
    smoking a cigarette on a cement ledge
    and being told I was a visionary.
    I’m just a visionary from a bottle.
    But no worries
    this new bottle’ll take that vision away,
    keep me safe and sound.
    I don’t know if I want that.
    I miss feeling like I might just be able
    not to change the world
    but to help a life or change a moment.
    Is it really better to give that up
    to exchange it for numbness
    and a lack of energy so deep
    that I fall asleep with the light on
    the TV flickering
    in the middle of a thought?
  2. theleastofthese

    theleastofthese SF Friend Staff Alumni

    Absolutely lovely!!!:smile: :smile: :smile:


  3. ~CazzaAngel~

    ~CazzaAngel~ Staff Alumni

    Wow!!! astonishing!!! :clap: :hug:
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.