I watch you slowly rotten from the inside out like a carcass decaying day by day. The wombs become evident on the outside like demons clawing and picking at your skin. You have succumb to the festering death that has long lived inside you. What once was a purpose driven, proud and caring being has become a pale, wrinkled, starving creature that is void of all emotion, all ability to function and survive. A shell of what once was a vibrant, brilliant soul.

You deny help, refusing it like a bitch rejects her offspring. You see therapy as a weakness, a form of failure. You are like a weak, scared, naked child abused and neglected by their mother ever searching for the love never received. Stubborn yet screaming silently to die but your demons won’t allow it. You keep searching for a solace that never appears. Your demons are your closest friends now, your only friends. Force feeding you the trash that you consume until your mind is void of real thought or the natural being that was once reality.

Your alone. You stare around and realize that everyone you care about is gone. Where did they go? In a frantic hysteria you cry out for anyone to hear you! No one is there. You look down at your arms and see bugs crawling under your skin. You start picking, deeper and deeper until blood appears, but where did the bug go? Wait a minute, I hear someone, they have come to see you. Open the door, no one is there. A voice, you hear a voice, laughing, laughing at you. Your arm, there is that bug again, you begin digging. Days become nights, nights to days. Where are you?

Hell my loved one, you are in Hell.


By: Brin Harris aka Punked Up Pixie


3 Comments on “Drugs Through Sober Eyes

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