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Array
(
[sid] => 660
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Hero
[time] => 2002-07-18 12:20:31
[hometext] => When I was 14 - 16 I was going through a hell that would be later diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenia and, not knowing what else to do, I was using heroin to calm it... I tried to express that time in my life through this poem.
[bodytext] => My hands are shaking again. I’m so tired. I don’t want to do this. Please. My head is ringing and sore. What day is it? I can’t sleep any more. I’ve got to keep watch, got to be vigilant. They could come any time. It’s nice that you warned me, but why can’t you leave me alone? Just a little rest? Stop! Stop! I’m sorry. I won’t ask again. I’m sorry. I know. Rest will make me vulnerable. We can’t have that. You’re right. I know. It’s cold. The wind’s stinging my ears. We’re almost home, aren’t we? There’s a man in a black suit and my heart stops. I want to run. I run. There’s home, almost, I see it— I slam through the front door and into my room, shaking— The world’s at a million miles an hour— Shut up! Shut up! I’m so tired, please, I want to rest— I chew the skin off my thumb and cook up a shot, My hands shaking so bad I almost spill it, And oh… it’s becoming quiet, Beautifully quiet, My hands steady as it courses through my veins… And I swallow back the longing with spoonfuls of the sweetest grief... [comments] => 1 [counter] => 170 [topic] => 21 [informant] => skinny-little-punk [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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