‘Jesus apparently loved blue wine’
a prose poem, written by someone diagnosed with schizophrenia
—- wore a white robe and walked down the stairs the same way as the rest of us. there was always this brightly glowing white ball behind us. the only thing shining in the pitch dark. and I’m pretty sure his belt had a snake pendant on it.
he talked about weed a lot, with a joint in his hand, and asked me if I wanted to light it. I said, ‘yes’ he said, ‘I’ve been just like you before.’
I said, ‘thank you but you don’t have to say that?’
he said, ‘that’s what makes you the embodiment of your soul contract.’
we sat on those stairs for a while, smoking, drinking,
he said, ‘when do you think you’ll quit the habit?’
About the Creator
h.a.laine
writer, telepathist, alien translator. diagnosed with schizophrenia. I write prose poetry and create digital art to describe my experiences.
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts7 days ago in Longevity
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