How did we get to this point? Out of control in the seat of your sisters gray sedan, helplessly watching as it wraps around itself and pivots up the meekly vegetated hillside. Coming back into your own head just in time for you to make a sharp left turn, should have been a right. You’re off in the direction of the steep embankment. As you catch the edge of the daunting hillside, you instantly rip the e-brake with an unnoted force, and veer the car back to the right hand side of the road. Another small overcorrection as the hot rubber on the tires slides, and you pull off. Your life, last three seconds, and any pride you had left hang in your mind like the air fresheners from the rearview. You erupt and emit a scream you’ve never heard yourself produce, shaking uncontrollably as the tears cascaded like an avalanche down your snow white face. Dazed, but more confused, your loved ones flash before your eyes like ghosts of the past and you begin to comprehend how detrimental your actions could have been. How detrimental they have been to this point. You’ve been addicted to this for far too long. It’s not a crutch, or an excuse anymore, but a poison.
Tear filled eyes only happen in your sight as you reach for another. You wished it was art almost every time. Instead of a number, and two meaningless letters to remind you of your demons. You wished it was a new picture to help you remember where you’ve been, the good times, and where you could be going. You swallow the tiny pink pill, with OC printed on one side and 30 on the other, like its melatonin.
You’ve let this tiny pink pill infiltrate your very being to the point where you’ve begun to habitually sneak like a child to your dad's computer bag just to find your fix. You’ve continued to do this even though you’ve seen their broken faces filled with tears as they caught you like a child stealing candy. You allow yourself day in and day out to swallow your sorrows that are trapped in whatever release this pill once gave you. If this weren’t enough, you wash down the pain of the pill with another poison. If neither one were deadly enough as is, this concoction would be far superior, and you felt far superior. Your friends watch you time after time as your eyes become heavier and heavier, as you nod off into a state of emptiness, leaving them unsure of whether you’ll even wake up the next day. You’re not sure if you don’t mind the thought of that or if your worries were washed away with the tide of tiny pink sand. People only see the tip of the iceberg though, and remain oblivious to the severity of your struggle. They laugh at the problems you face every weekend. They laugh without getting the joke. The punchline delivered is something inside a little pink pill.
Reality is you’ve allowed yourself to be shackled to this tiny pink pill for far too long and the sweet server slinging pink, who seduced you, stole the key. You’ve hopped on a roller coaster that’s only going down and you have no way off. The ride looked greener from the other side, but upon closer inspection, it was just putrid puke pink. Today, you arrived at a new low, what you believe is rock bottom and the thing you hate most is that you can’t tell anyone, because that involves shattering your pretentiously pink little ego. How could you ever get yourself to admit to anyone that you’ve succumbed to the powers of pink powder so much that it drove you to the bridge, showed you the edge, and pushed you to jump. It’s twisted your mind and stole your dignity and now it’s trying to take your life from you.
You didn’t think the first time you planted this little pink seed that it would blossom into this persistent pink popping problem. It’s bust you up black and blue and now all you see is purple, but your problem is still pink. You used to smoke the green on those lonesome nights, but it no longer packs the punch of the pink powder pressed tight. As the crimson red dribbles down your pale white face, you notice yellow petals waving slowly in the wind. You are aware of all these colors, but you still don’t perceive the picture with the possessive pink pill. Pink skies, pink candy, and pink nails, wherever you try and run a persistent pink shines. So fuck the pink you motherfucker, and save yourself before you begin to sink, and remember life will never be what you think.