You Probably Can’t if You’re Anything Like Me, a poem by Drem

Aggressive, raw, honest, and loud- this poem brings you from the violent rain in with a junkie describing her world the way she feels it in her clammy skin. Can you feel it? I can feel it. I’m there.



I’m sorry for posting so late, but I think it’s worth it!

I actually purchased an album. I never do that. I’m not one of those people. But I purchased an album. And it’s by the artist Halsey. Her debut. And thanks to her work, I became extremely inspired and wrote this (and changed my hair color). The first line of this poem is a lyric of hers, I *think.* If it’s not exactly, it’s close enough that I feel I must disclose it. In any case, I took what follows it in an entirely different direction. And, I am eternally grateful because I came out with a few thanks to her album. Her work steered me in a better direction that I was going in.


“You Probably Can’t if You’re Anything Like Me,” a poem by Drem

Written September 26th, 2015

“I’m the violence in the rain.

I’m the fucking lightening

reminding you

through the turbulence

of bad kiss after bad kiss

that light exists

during the harshest winds

of your existence.

But, if you don’t think you can make it

you’re probably right – you can’t.

It doesn’t matter where you are,

NY to LA.

I’m a semi-functioning






and if you’re anything like me

it’s too late, baby.

I’m a girl floating around in her own mind

living on water and cake

in bed.

But sleep is for people who know how to sleep.

And I’m not one of those

so I doze,

I doze,


just a little bit

for shallow breath

and clammy skin.

It feels so good to be that close to death.

Mood stabilizers and Vic(oden) bring me there

and I forget

for a little bit

what made me

who I am.

I’m not blaming.

I’m just explaining

what they did to create this.

I can’t love anymore.

My heart’s incapable

from the chemicals.

(The) Uppers and downers,

middle ground

is legit fictional.

I keep you far away

just for peace of mind

and I don’t move

and I get mad

when my shadow taps your shoulder

and you get startled

and I get startled.

You turn around

and you are just as empty

and just as hallow

as me.

But if we are so empty,

what brings out the water

in our eyes?

Who’s the fucker

who turns on the faucet

controlling our minds?

I thought this was over.

I don’t have a problem.

You wouldn’t be fine either.

But… who’s controlling my mind?”

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