Xanax and Silver
cross hangs down, silver hits the desk as i inhale. i try so hard to be good but this feels better.
the relaxing god, the fanatic inside the savior inside who helps me through these sweaty nights.
serenity is soothed in silver. and its 1+1+2+2+1 and the lights are burning my face.
ive got a new dress. i dont wanna burn it up, stay awake.
little rituals. little ways and parts and places. the real world is approaching fast,
i wanna stay here in this bubble, i wanna live where no one will ever hurt me again.
only so much powder and the pain is not in your reach.
teeth hurt but the clenching ended days ago.
i beg for sweet sleep, but to not dream of vows and coins and promises.
the commandments make me itch and your prayers are like angel dust.
i beg for sweet sleep, not the hard plastic chairs and the counting of days and the very special anniversaries, you all are stunning hipocrites.
so i bend again to the table. and i scratch and i bleed.
and i make it perfect for my eyes.
and i let the silver swing down to the wood and the clank it makes.... makes me feel like i am home again.
and the radio doesnt matter anymore and the lies are all gone and i sink back into a very real reality.
Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2012
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