I swallow myself,
Mouth last
You told me to trust
And I threw them back
I ignored the lump
In my my throat,
And I chased them
With a non-alcoholic drink.
Remember I told you
I was addicted before?
I jumped feet first
Down my throat
I only stopped
When my stomach was full
What I remember next
Was too frantic and too slow
I begged them not to call
I still blame them for that sometimes
The colors rushed and then
There was a whiplash of static white
I told them I didn’t mean to
But what I meant was I
Didn’t do it to hurt them
I meant the whole thing
You told me to trust
But you didn’t believe me
It was always a ghost
Until it became real
I don’t like that song anymore

Kronos swallowed his children, eventually it destroyed him. I swallowed benzos, there’s that tenuous metaphor

This poem is honest in the way it’s how I felt but I wasn’t honest with myself and I still blamed the psychiatrist who continued to prescribe them to despite the clear signs that I was addicted

I was taking 8 to 12 mg a day through my prescription and extralegal means. I still haven’t fully accepted my role in this but I’m getting there

Eventually the bottom fell out and I overdosed on a lot of pills on purpose. Should’ve died. Somehow didn’t. I don’t like the song Lunar Wilderness by Between the Buried and Me anymore because before my attempt I tried listening to it as it’s my favorite song and honestly it made it worse. So that memory has made the song hard to listen to. Either way, I still have work to do to take my share of the responsibility