The Little Black Book of Poems: Truth or Dare

I hate this feeling,

Loneliness.

I am alone.

I fear no one understands,

Lost.

I am not really—

Here is where I want to be,

But I am so far away.

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I can hardly catch my breath

Just breathe.

I can hardly handle the truth—

Or dare.

It’s the thrill I miss,

The adventure I so much desire.

It’s the unknown that kept me coming back for more.

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I adore,

Correction—

I adored.

This can’t still be true.

Ugh. But it is.

Except, no longer can deception be my middle name.

They tell me I’m a master manipulator,

I tell them the best of belief is the lie.

But I’m trying to take it back.

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I just hate this emotion—

Or, lack thereof.

Comfortably numb,

Paralyzed from reality,

My own personal hell.

I hate that I enjoy the numbness.

I hate that I miss the high,

The chase,

The challenge,

The drive.

I hate that I want its freedom back.

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Truth, I’d roll down my window;

He’d push his foot to the gas,

As the car accelerated to an all-time high.

I felt the same.

Dare, I’d snort my pills off a dirty CD case,

And once the oxy’s effect began to take hold,

I was free.

I’d slowly loosen my seatbelt,

Vigorously,

I’d stick my head out the car’s open window.

As the wind catches my long brown hair,

I choose dare.

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Time after time,

I thought this was “the good life”—

Except,

I was so far from reality,

I had no grip.

It all started because I wanted to have some fun;

Then it took on a life of its own.

I threw everything away—

Just as I threw the smoked cigarette butt out that open window.

The good girl in me is—

Going.
Going.
Gone.

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As the once ignited flame flew,

It moved further and further away,

I couldn’t help but envy the disappearing smoke.

I wanted distance.

I wanted out.

Morals—

What’s that?

I was a junkie with survival on my mind.

Sigh—

There was nothing I wouldn’t do to get high,

At the time, this girl had no name,

Even though, I had a shit ton of pain.

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I know it makes no sense,

But that’s how I liked it.

I know it’s not fair,

So I try not to care.

Anyone up for another round of truth or dare?

Truth,

You tell me how you feel.

Dare,

You prove it.

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xoxo,

macey bee

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One thought on “The Little Black Book of Poems: Truth or Dare

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