Tag: drugs

Lost Momentum

justuspicEDIT
Because I am sick and I am tired and I am slowly losing momentum.
Tired is the father that does all that he can
To raise his son to be an upstanding young man
Who gets with the wrong crowd and with a substance he can’t live without
And learns the hard way what a heroin overdose is all about
Terrified is the woman
Who doesn’t understand…why she was assaulted by the police officer man
His motive pathetic, the message subliminal — his inferiority complex made her a sex object slash criminal
She runs home to wash the dirt off in the shower while he runs back to the station to bask in all his “power”
Tongue-tied is the little girl who says she loves who she is
trying to love her skin and trying to love what’s within
while every tv screen tells her that her hair should be longer and her clothes should be tighter
and that she should stop reading so many  books and that her skin should be lighter
Tortured is the soul
That dies the same death damn near every day
Death by miseducation, death by exploitation…death by this immovable socio-historio-political situation
Miscarriage of justice, yes, but no one really makes a fuss
Because no justice just is…after all, it’s just us.

Letter to Addiction

addictionEDIT

Addiction,

Sometimes I know exactly what I want to tell you, sometimes the words to describe how I feel about you are hard to find. I’m sitting here drawing a blank, at a loss for words, but at the same time I can feel every word I have yet to write. I can feel. But you can’t feel.

Feelings are among the many things you do not possess. You don’t feel the sadness I feel when you forget about me. You don’t feel the anger I feel when I see you manipulate your way through your life…or should I say what’s left of your life. You don’t know how happy I feel on the days when remnants of your old self manage to surface from time to time, and how let down I feel when I come to terms with the fact that they are as authentic as your pseudo-emotions.

Addiction

I said that I was drawing a blank, but truth is, you’re the one with the empty space. No dreams, no goals, no ambitions and no passions will ever fill it. Your drug of choice is the only void that can fill that void. Its everything and its nothing.

Time goes by, yet you stop time. You stop life. Your victims are frozen in a moment – because in exchange for the high, they lose a lifetime.

But I’m a victim too. Thank the Lord above, no drug has led me down your path. But as I watch as people I care about are dragged down your dark corridors, winding roads and uphill excursions, I too have been riding along in the backseat, feeling every bump, every wrong turn.

Addiction

You are one of the most selfish people I know.  You take everything and you give nothing. You think the world revolves around you. You think you have it all figured out. You think you have everyone around you fooled, but the joke is on you.

You sleep all day. You’re up all night. You itch all over. You can’t hold a job. Your nose bleeds. You’ve gained weight. You’ve lost weight. You can’t hold a relationship. You’re depressed. You’re anxious. You lie. You cheat. You steal. You think you’re better than everyone else. You think you’re the smallest person on this earth.

 Addiction

Get the hell out and take your bottles, your pills, your joints, your rocks, your needles and everything else you brought here with you. And on your way out, give us back our loved ones you’ve been holding for hostage for so long.

Wait a minute…why am I writing this letter? Why am I expecting anything in return from you? I’m sitting here pouring my heart out, but why?

Because I can feel, but you can’t.

Feel.