spilled pill

Your warm hands on my neck
I know it’s the pastel pill
Your breathe, burning as you speak
I am sure it’s the pastel pill
Those ocean eyes looked at mine
Deeply, I stared back
Oh, it was the pastel pill
Fingers of yours traced my lips
Gently pulled me, bitter and sweet pleasure
Pastel pill, pastel pill
“Is it too late, my love?”
You exhaled the words
I can taste that pastel pill
On your mouth, with your words, and in my chest
Ha, I took that pastel pill
For you are my drug
And we are running out of pill.
—  her (MIS), pill
i’m honestly pathetic. it’s weekend after weekend after weekend, getting high or drunk or both, just to numb the pain. just to forget about you, even if it’s just for a few minutes. it’s getting into different car after different car, and with a different boy each time. it’s kiss after meaningless kiss, desperately trying to find somone’s lips that burn brighter than yours. it’s pointless conversation after pointless conversation with anyone who gave me a second look. it’s hour after hour after hour of not sleeping because you’re still in my fucking dreams, every time i close my eyes, you’re rigt there, tattooed on the inside on my eyelids. it’s pill after pill, trying to take away the pain, but i think that this pain is different from the one it’s prescribed for. it’s shot after shot, vodka smoldering my insides, trying to replicate the flame we had when we first met. it’s line after line, slurring my words, stumbling across the floor, mind fucking spinning but still somehow managing to focus on you. it’s the same fucking shit over and over and now it’s not working, maybe it never even did. or maybe i’m addicted. but i’d rather be addicted to drugs because in the end you are way worse for me than drugs will ever be.
—  it’s 2:32 and i’m the only one awake at a party.
people are temporary
they come and they go as they please
enter my life the same way the wind blows the tree’s leaves
not even having the courtesy of saying ‘excuse me please’.
people are temporary
one moment they’re all you have
and you’re the apple of their eyes
the next they’re gone
having found someone else
to replace you in their heart.
people are temporary
they have their favorite spot by your side
until they find another place to make their own
maybe here, maybe there
you never know where else you may see them next.
people are temporary
they provide you with a safety net
promising to catch you every time you fall
only to take it away suddenly
and watch you break when you then meet the ground.
people are temporary
they fill you with love and hope and dreams
only to tear it all away
leaving you
hollow
scarred
broken
in their wake.
people are temporary
they make you feel wanted and needed and important
only to discard you when you’re no longer of use
and you fear you won’t be good enough
for the next person on the queue.
people are temporary
the marks they leave, however, are not.
—  what to do when the only permanent thing is the aching in my heart? // a.g.
You were every dream
Every thought while I sleep
Now I’m awake
Went too crazy, made mistakes
And the sleeping pills are gone
Maybe you’ll come back
Dream on
—  CO
Your Supply

Those little blue pills seem to get you through the day.
I don’t always notice them, but when I do
I only wish they’d go away.
They never do, and still your supply tends to grow.
You’ve stored them in bottles in which they don’t go.
I open a bottle, pills spill to the floor.
I don’t want to admit you need them,
but I keep finding more.
They’re falling out of your back pockets,
they are under the seats,
they’re between my legs,
even under the sheets. 
I cannot escape the blue pills you’ve collected,
I count the ones in my recollection.
How many pills have you taken today?
I’ve lost count.
Was it fifty or sixty? You tolerance astounds.
I remember when two gave you a headache
and you sat with your head in your hands for hours.
Now you pop them like candy,
as if they give you magical powers;
and maybe to you they are,
maybe they do,
but I can’t stop paying attention to you.
I have to take the brunt force of your rage
when they run out.
I’m trapped in our cage.
So you never let them run out.
You hoard them, collectively,
you keep doing them without a doubt
because you say you love me. 

I try not to get affected
by all the bullcrap
you’re saying about me.

I try not to let
each real word pierce me,
though they still do.

And I try not to let my heart pump
because blood might pour out
from the open wounds.

I try to think about all the good things in my life,
only to find out
that there aren’t any.

I try to accept the position in life that I am in,
though I can’t help but notice
other people have burdens lighter than mine.

I try to engross myself
in something worthwhile,
But I never find satisfaction.

I try to find my purpose in the world,
then I meet another dead end
and I’ll just fall to my knees

and break.

Kiss me beneath the streetlight, our embrace turned green
I’ll bring you back to my place because I love to watch your eyes linger,
love to see you duck your head and smile
at the cat clock in the corner and the homemade fridge magnets.  
And please, lover, when I go to meet your parents,                        
let me do the talking because the way you introduce me 
makes me want claw your friggin’ eyes out.
Those early days where my happy ways pulled you out of your seriousness and stubble
wasn’t some fairy tale fix where I descended from the heavens
just so you can learn to unpack all of that hypermasculinity.
When you cut open these veins, its pills that spill out,
The dull hues of blues and whites and pinks that do nothing
to stop the screaming behind my eyes. Baby, I’m not here
to save you.
You’re here to cook breakfast when the cloud in my head
descends to blind my eyes. You’re here to carry me to bed
when the stress of just getting up and eating food is too much for me.
You are convinced
that your touch and gentleness will balance the chemicals
backfiring in my brain. You are the temporary fix
to an amputated leg, folding yourself up to fit inside the prosthetic appendage,
and I can see your back aching from the strain just as much as my phantom leg
is tired of something that I never asked for trying to prop me up.  
My pink sofa and cat sweaters were never here for you.
I’m just trying to keep the chemicals from taking over my mind,
until the day when the pills finally do their job
and turn themselves to blood again
—  Diary of a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, © Kassie Marie

@rpcloud

As she was thrown off, she let her back crash against whatever was in the way of her fall, not even finding the strength to scream, or speak for that matter.
Body limp, she finally noticed the bottles and pills spilled out on the countless surfaces the broken demon had in his possession, tears threatening to pill at the corners of her eyes once again.
Turning her gaze to the outcome of her impulsive actions, she raised her hands to her cheeks, letting out angry sobs, her eyes wide in shock as the puddle of crimson pooled under the male.
Standing up, her movements ragged and rough, she walked over to him, fighting back the urge to kick him, knowing that coward of an action was below her, even at the state she was in, “Its all your fault…” She cried out, hands still tangled over her face, “We were getting better and…” She just stood there, not knowing what to do with her broken self.

Ringing, there was so much ringing in his head. He shook it a bit, pain filling his ears, the feeling of internal bleeding seeping through his brain. He was ready to just give up, let this go, but those words… oh it was too much. Wrath let out the loudest, most feral, growl he ever had, moving quick to grab her legs and pull her down onto the ground. He couldn’t see fully yet, but he didn’t care, he could feel. He practically clawed up her body, dripping blood all over her before laying a hard punch into her jaw. “Shut up you fucking cunt!” he screamed, not needing another death of a love one on his conscious like she was trying to do to him.

we all went swiming and we all drown// tie me up and then just leave// do you take sugar in your coffe at 3:46 am??// i dont know the colour of your eyes but i hope they’re blue// did you mean what you said last night?// we talked last night??//the drugs sometimes kick in weeks later// like when i close my eyes and i see a faceless smile// sometimes i laugh at things that make me want to cry// sometimes i appericate the things that destory me// scratch that.. i always appericate the things that destroy me// run until my lungs catch fire and my whole body burns// i like kissing people that i would never fuck// i always say I’m not going to get that drunk right before i black out// and i always say it wont bother me but it still wil// break my bones to see if i have any// break my heart to see if its still beating// i should call my doctor// call me later // sometimes i wish i didnt care about anything so i could become a druggie and live with purpose// getting high is a purpose// its like falling in love with a feeling// i do that a lot// there is good in everyone// hell isn’t below the earth, its stuttley mixed into everthing you love the most// if you love things after their expiry date you will get sick// best before… yesterday// best before… last week// best before… last year// my trash can is empty because i dont use things just to throw them away// yours is full// angels and demons fuck a lot its just sience// i dont want to be someone else i just want to change everything about myself//weed left me confused so i started popping pills// i lost 4 hours yesterday// must have misplaced them// i wanna sell my soul but the devil wont buy it??// does anyone have a used phone case that will protect me from seeing things i dont want to see// like how lonely i am// did you do the math homework?// i dont really want to stop being 16// mom please dont touch me right now//i like noises that make it impossible to hear anything// i like pain that distracts me from other pain//i like songs that have feelings attached// i like ugly people// i like faceless people// i like people who dont like themselves// i like people who dont know how to like// i don’t know how to like// I’m not going to fuck you//… right now// why do people say goodbye BEFORE they leave// why didn’t you say goodbye before you left?// Why did you leave?// what do you want to do after high school?// not this// throw me a shovel because I’m so fucking stuck// light a match and drop it on a pile of everything i used to be// add gasoline //
—  Not everything