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It's in the water baby,
It's in the pills that bring you down,
It's in the water baby,
It's in your bag of golden brown,
It's in the water baby,
It's in your frequency,
It's in the water baby,
It's between you and me.
It's in the water baby,
It's in the pills that pick you up,
It's in the water baby,
It's in the special way we fuck,
It's in the water baby,
It's in your family tree,
It's in the water baby,
It's between you and me.
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I just did a few, I didn’t count how many, I just lined them up and let my nostrils take turns.
My teeth are sore from all the grinding, my throat is raw from the drip and my “allergies” are worsening by the day. My jaw was killing me today, which is probably another result of grinding and clenching my jaw for so many nights.
The left nostril always hurts and it has never been a smooth inhale.
The right one has cuts and bumps lining the inside, and is usually numb before I even do a line, but tonight, it hurt. It stung on the cuts.
I have only one bag left, which is supposed to be for Kelsey and I to split the night before I leave for college, so I hope I can keep it without completely finishing it.
I have grown accustomed to blowing my nose in my hands because tissues are hard to come by so often and so late at night. My air conditioner masks the sounds of snorting, sniffling, and blowing, allowing my parents to get a good night sleep without the constant reminder of the problem child living in the attic.
I didn’t have a drink by my side tonight, the only water bottles I have are either empty or being used to “clean” my dirty paintbrushes. I use only a piece of gum, which never ceases to disappoint me when it comes to distracting me from the horrible taste and drip. The taste only an addict could love.
I didn’t have a straw either; I think I lost it during one of the many trips to Aaron’s bathroom I took last night. So a rolled up dollar bill is how it had to go. I found one at the bottom of my backpack, already rolled, but obviously used too many times. It wasn’t even a crisp one, it had the consistency of an ancient bill left on the bottom of every purse, shoved harshly into every wallet, and pushed into every back-pocket of every pair of jeans you could own.
I flew quickly from racing heartbeat to running nose, to having my nostrils stuffed beyond belief. The back of my throat is numb and cold. Every time I breathe in through my mouth, the cold air gnaws at the skin like the way sand slowly erodes rocks.
It is currently 4:07am, and I was given clear instructions that sleeping during the day tomorrow is absolutely forbidden. This leaves me with two choices: do some artwork and use my current state of mind to my advantage, or try to fall asleep, which most likely will not happen for another few hours, if at all. Another choice is to do more and maintain my high, which would leave me with less than I had before.
And knowing my addictive personality, my craving for euphoria and my willingness to do whatever it takes to get what I want, I can clearly see yet another trip to North Bergen, Hoboken, a bedroom, a bathroom, or the Border’s ladies restroom in my very near future.
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im afraid to get close to someone
because im afraid to get hurt again
im afraid of what might happen next
and im afraid of opening up to someone
who doesnt deserve it.
i am now sewing myself shut
until i find that one person that i can trust
because right now, i trust no one.
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as the summers pass, i become more and more insane.
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so i guess after almost dying maybe i should update my xanga.
yes. i overdosed on xanax, prozac and percocet.
yes. i got taken out of school in an ambulance.
yes. i cut up my wrists and dont remember anything.
yes. i threw up liquid charcoal all night.
yes. i am going to rehab.
i'll probably write out the whole long-winded story later.
lol 'twas an experience to learn from.
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