mdma od
i wake up from my nightmare
i'm all out of coke and oxy
i look at myself in the dirty mirror
my throat looks bruised in blue lights
a bump of k i dissociate
the hands come off my neck as i
stare at my eyes in the mirror
it's gone. i blink.
i cry uncontrollably. my face breaks open
his hands are on my neck.
i see him reflected in my eyes
"you like it"
i can't stand to look at myself
i pinch my arms til they bruise too
i cut my thigh open til
they're striped and rusty like railroads
i pull a g size bag of molly
in my bottom drawer for months
only taken a very little before
put the big crystal on my tongue
tastes so bad i feel sick
grind the smaller pieces and snort them
the taste is a feeling indescribable
of sucking on stalactite popsicles
burning up my body from inside
i suck on a cherry jolly rancher
lie back on the beanbag waiting
for something to happen listening
for the music in my headphones to stop
whispering words like broken and stained
waiting for my mind to stop
eating itself whole with loathing
it hits all at once. five past noon
i feel it crash me like a light show
my music's words break for screams
the bitterness and the sweetness
catches in the bronchioles sprouting
fruits so sickly and self-destructive
that they taste like ambrosia
in the back of my throat i close
my eyes i open them if i close them
i will never see again my fingers
feel wet like wax i'm made of wax
just extra human in every way until
i melt from the heat inside myself
i'm a candle
i stand up i can't breathe i can't see
anything but a rage of light and dust particles
neon and noxious purple like poison
slippery on my thumbs frantically
trying again and again to type
and again and again mispelling
"amount of mdma to od"
in the browser frantically my fingers
beating each ten heartbeats on my warm screen
such an excess of life and emotion and connection
it might burn itself into nothingness
and beat the blood all the way
out of my body and stain the carpet
i feel bloody in light somewhere proximate
to birth and to death liquid
like between dreams and reality
between blue glass curtains of light
my phone buzzing and hurting my hands
with the intensity of its cry for help
somebody help me, anybody, icarus
i would rather let myself fade in this
purple petal air than call 911
i won't send myself into thoughts
they are less breathable
with conscious choices inhales and exhales
exist again tugging like snagged threads
against my network of twisty ribs
people come to check on me and i
feel them there and not and feel my body
there and not mostly not through all
the feeling and the intensity
still not as intense as my nightmares
a gram of molly not as intense
as what my brain imagines for me from life
life that is days that is hours stretched
painfully to pass taut like a string
between touches on my shoulder and the feeling
of curls pressed against my cheek
the warmth of the sunshine passing quickly
into muscle aches and blue grey night
all under the weight of the effort
of too many useless conversations
i go home. i change. i look at myself
in the mirror. i lie in my bed. i dream
i wake up from my nightmare
—Stanford CA, November, 2021
