Table of Contents

Soaked in rays of happenstance sights

Snapdragon

If the Sun will Rise again Tomorrow

To Give and to Receive

Intentionally Unsweetened

Perceived Mentors

Stop Eating Me I’m Only Skin And Bone

You Were Born in my Memory

Dust Covered Windows

Before the Season Ends

Rock

Pouring Wine

Helium Balloon

Old Hand Holds Hanging Lantern

Evan Buckiewicz

I'm a writer, web artist and doll artist.

Abstract

Discussion

Leave a Comment

Stop Eating Me I’m Only Skin And Bone


[cw: contains images of addiction, violence and mental illness]

Spent the change I had on candy and coca cola.
Need money for the night bus now, need to get home to my bed.
I hate begging, but sometimes there’s just no other choice.
Fuck I need to smoke; I can’t stand this itch in my lungs.
I need a cigarette. I don’t plan on quitting in my lifetime. I’ll quit after I’m dead.
That guy I just asked had a whole fucking pack, I saw it in his pocket.
He didn’t give me even one. He walked away from me as fast as he could.
I’m going to stab his eyes out with a screwdriver, piece of shit.
I want to put his big mouth over the sidewalk, take my foot and: BOOM. Fucking right asshole!
I haven’t had dope in four days, I’m very ill. I want it so badly.
It’s cold, I don’t have any fat to keep me warm.
Finally got my cigarette! This man gave me two.
The boy next to me says he smelled like rotting flesh.
I can’t smell anymore, I say, my nose is broken.
Now he’s talking to me like he knows better than I do, stupid shit.
It’s been ten years I’ve been like this.
My IQ is 144. I’m very good with numbers. Even got my economics degree.
I’m a smart guy. I’ve tried everything — doesnt work.
I think differently than people like him. My brain is different.
Can’t fix myself. I’ve tried. Can’t.
I’ll be someone else after I die.