Crushed Up Pills

The Cinders on Aug 1, 2009

Tags: Burnout, drugs, pills, self-destruct

True stories of True stupidity.

And the pills–And the pills run through me like water. Crashing and coursing through my veins, mingling with red and white blood cells, turning them blue. Like my lips–Like my lips as I snort up vicodin and xanax and proceed to feeling good. A slow ride that leaves my eyelids heavy and my nose hungering for more. I feel like If you tipped my head back it’d roll right off my shoulders and I wouldn’t have to think about every little thing.
I touch my lips and look at hers–Look at hers! Look at her tongue playing with the thin black ring in the middle of her bottom lip.
Don’t do this to me. Don’t play with me.
The white lines dope me up into oblivion and the pink ones soften and satisfy me. Colors mingle into a neutral shade of nude and I want to–and I want to Dance and Laugh and notcare–notcare–don’tcare–won’tcare–couldn’t care less about anything but the lady crushing the pills and the dollar bill to snort them with.
Behind Books–Behind Books in American Lit–we get lit and fly high until we settle at a low. On the sink–On the sink watching White/Pink lines disappear into my sinuses.
Ahhhhh! Feeling good–Feeling fuzzy–Feeling tired–Feeling ready to party–
And get drunk and get higher–And smoke weed and get higher and drink codeine and get higher and snort cocaine and get higher.
And do anything to get higher. Says my brain, pushing and pushing until I’ve finally had enough–can’t get enough. I want more and more until my brain is numb and I don’t have any limbs and the thought of going home only slightly sickens me.
I don’t need it–I don’t want to go without it–can’t cope without the dope until I die.
Words blur together, not making sense and quaking my head until it hurts. Get higher–Fly harder, little girl. I Open my eyes and look at my hands and that’s all I am…a little girl trying to have fun–Trying to be happy.
My arm burns and I want to stop but quitters never win. I try to read the clock to see how long until nicotine time, but the light burns through my retinas and I’m left blind. Shut inside my own mind to watch myself–talk for myself–walk for myself, hoping this will last but a good thing never does.

5
Liked it

I Like It

Comments (10)

David Crerand on Aug 1, 2009
a stunning display in describing the cyclical and pointless nature of addiction. You’ve used your skill as a writer to define something empty and non-productive and you have succeeded marvelously. Now use your skill as a writer to put this crap aside and focus the pinpoint accuracy of your writer’s vision on things that matter. Don’t pamper yourself. Grow through this quickly before the lessons of childhood become too expensive.
Timothy P Stavert on Aug 1, 2009
It is a shame that this story doesn’t tell the outcome of the drug abuser. Although it describes the effects very well and some may see the effects but in the end there is always a sad story behind, quitters can win in the end btu unless they have enough willpower it can be fatal.

Best Wishes

Tim
Daisy Peasblossom on Aug 1, 2009
David and Timothy have made excellent points. While the prose here is excellent, the experience described has a tendency to become fatal.
Danielle on Aug 2, 2009
I say screw what those 3 before me said- what you’ve written here is completely real- complete in explaining the feeling of the drugs you’ve described. Most people can’t begin to explain how they feel on drugs- except for “good”. And as far as what Daisy said- it’s only fatal if you don’t know when to stop. As for myself, I know when to stop.
-Danielle
Myles ODonnell on Aug 5, 2009
hello, i liked this. i can definitely relate to the numbing of bad feelings through the use of drugs. other than a minute amount of spelling and grammatical errors, this is very well written. you have a sense of style, like the jarred sentences and capitalized words. i use things like that in my writing as well. good job!
Tate Morgan on Aug 6, 2009
I am no stranger to the drug world.I understand the need and the pain the numbness that turns off the brain for awhile As my own will never shut up I use to medicate it for a little peace
Tate
Tate Morgan on Aug 6, 2009
It is hard to write the truth The gift is to make others feel as you and feel what they could never do on their own without you.Your gift shines through here As i think this is something you have experienced as Have i write to what you know and feel.Not so much what you imagine others to feel
daring104 on Aug 16, 2009
Wow, this very interesting. Never knew addiction can do that to you. Very mind boggling. Keep posting!
Teyah on Aug 31, 2009
You really have a way with words and writing. Addiction is a strong and powerful thing!!! Keep posting, love reading them!
The Cinders on Apr 5, 2011
I don’t think you guys get it, this was me. This was my experience. This was one afternoon in school when I snorted pills with my friend Laura in the bathroom and in class. This isn’t about addiction, there’s not lesson, there’s no outcome. I just got high. I was just writing about the high, that’s all. Stop reading into things so much.

Crushed Up Pills

Hi there!

Find the Spot

Categories