Needles and The Need For You

Last weekend, I put out a call for writing collaborations to pass the time during what’s been a fairly wet and somewhat dreary time of year. I haven’t done too many collabs (although that’s something I really wanted to change). Fortunately, I know a few good writers not only here but through my Instagram page. One of my favorites, Emily Hayes (who goes by E.R. Hayes on her insta), was eager to join forces. We wound up writing three distinct pieces, and I was thrilled to write and discuss words feedback. Her bio is short but poignant, as she states I’m just a 17 year old trying to make a positive impact on the world through my writing. I always applaud fellow young writers who want to leave their mark through words, especially when they’re as talented as Emily. You can find more of her fantastic words here Emily Hayes. This piece is the third of a three part series. You can read the first here, Death Plays a Quivering Chord

(Emily)

Bundles of needles protrude from my skull

In deep incisions

My left arm is crimson, my self worth

Is missing, the IV is dripping

The doctors won’t listen and you’ve never

Listened, so nothing is different

Well, some things are different like

The migraine that lingers

But I’m sure you’ll say I made it up

Because you never figure

I’ll never have the confidence to pull the

Trigger

But what if I do? What if I do?

What would you do if I added a bullet to

The group of throbbing needles?

What would you feel? What would you

Feel?

Would you care if my porcelain skin lay in

Pieces?

I don’t think you’d care, since you’ve never

Cared

But I know I care and since I care, instead

Of dying I’ll lie in despair

(Me)

Surprise, surprise I never do die

I’m lying in between heaven and hell

I just fall away from the antisocial social media

I deprive myself of the Facebook and Twitter

And do an about face regarding words I say

My left arm is tied to my outside, my self worth gone awry

Fulfilled by everyone else’s wishes, not mine

My right arm is tied to my inside, conscience

Smiling goodbye

Rejected by everyone else’s wishes, not mine

But what if I did, for a moment

Follow my own ambitions, what would change

What if I decided to let the others fall away

Like the blood from the IV I’ve cut loose

I grip the edge of the bed and stare out

Into the empty hallway, no longer in doubt

Their screams to lie back down fall down

Around my bare feet gripping wet tiles

I can finally see what I have to do

And it entails all of me, and none of you

I know you don’t care now that I’m free

Wanting to be a slave to you and me

I know If I live I will surely die

But if I die I will finally let the other live

The other me

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