Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I took a little pill last night
           to help me fall asleep,
hoping and praying
           to release the strife I keep.

But, it didn’t work…..

So, I took a long walk last night
          out in the freezing rain,
hoping and praying
           it would wash away my pain.

But, it didn’t work….

So, I came back into the house
          so tired and cold,
looked up into a mirror
          realizing I looked so old.

So I sat down and cried….

As morning approached I was exhausted,
    a need to lay down my weary head,
I hoped and prayed for dreamless sleep
  away from my heartbreak and dread.

But sleep was broken by dreams
         and now I welcome a new day,
   starting all over again
a peaceful heart, mind, and soul is what I pray…..*
~
¸.•°”˜ƸӜƷ˜”°•.•.

I have this place where I go
when I need to be all alone.
I call it my place,
a place where the hurts of the world
quiet down and fade away.


I have this place
no one knows about
between a field and a willow tree
along a pastures edge.


A place of beauty, where my fingertips
can paint over all the wrong
and all the pain I feel
in colors bright and cheery.


A creek down around the corner
I go to when
things get oppressive
dark and hard.


It’s a place of peace, where the fears
of my heart slow and still…
A place of calm, where the oceans
of emotions lay at my feet
and weep no more.


And I sit there
I don't know if I meditate
there in this place hidden
but I get peace
I see love I hug this earth.


It’s a place where I can breathe,
where I feel sheltered, protected
from the coldness outside
of my canopy of shade… It’s my place.


They go to their place…..
……they visit very often...


¸.•°”˜ƸӜƷ˜”°•.•.
America,
land of hospital bills
for the sick and dying.
Land of little kids with
their parents' guns,
just having fun.

America,
dare to ******* the
pale-coloured men.
Land of mass ******
gets you VIP on CBS.
Speak your mind with a 49.
I gently bite your knuckles
And I'm captivated by your eyes
Your kisses silence me
In and out of our sleepless nights
Don't stop loving me
Don't even let the idea creep into your mind
I am yours forever in this life
And you're undoubtedly mine.
Needs work, I know. Hashtag work in progress.
These jeans slip off my waist
The way you slipped through my fingers
I'm a little bit lost with an unmarked direction
Fighting the light you left behind that still lingers
Tangled in these bedsheets
Hiding from real life in just my underwear
Reaching for you, where you're supposed to be
But it's not you who's there
Lay me down, he takes what he's here for
I hesitate and he continues to stay
Without you I feel lifeless
I slowly feel my body decay.
To her
They were just boys
Coming and going
Like tides taking effortlessly from the shore

But to them
She was the moon disturbing all their movements,
Controlling their feelings with her mysterious big eyes
And they were all helpless to her pull
I don't do poems
Or maybe I do
But I'm not a poet
And that's not true
My mistress is stressed
But she's a much better muse
And she asked for a poem
To spark up her fuse
But I'm not a poet
And that's not true
Because I really do poems
When it's for you.
You love me I like poems
 Mar 2017 Chloe Hunt
Willow-Anne
She’s more fun when she is drunk
At least…until she’s not
Because she’s puking in the toilet
And regretting her last shot

She’s more confident when she’s drunk
Gorgeous and ready to score
Until she looks in a mirror
And feels even uglier than before

She likes herself more when she is drunk
Until that feeling goes away
When she is so far beyond gone
That her self-hatred comes out to play

She’s happier when she’s drunk
All her issues leave her brain
But they all come crashing back at once
And cause her so much pain

She likes the world more when drunk
It’s filled with so much good
Until one little thing sets her off
And she hates it all more than she should

She likes life more when she’s drunk
Her mind for once feels still
Terrified of losing that feeling
She soon wants to end things with a pill

But she can stop any time she wants
Or so she’d have you believe
Because alcohol makes her seem so happy
That is, until all her friends leave
Edit: (3/10/17) Oh my goodness! I haven't logged on in a couple of days and boy did I miss a lot!
I am doing my best to respond to all your messages and comments now! Sorry for the wait!
Thank you all so much for such an overwhelming amount of love and support <3 You guys are amazing
For those of you who struggle with addiction of any kind, hang in there, and I hope you all find the help and support you need <3
Best wishes to you all. And thank you again <3

Edit: (3/11/17)
Alrighty, so I just got a very long message that without going too into details accused me of poking fun at alcoholism with this poem. I would just like to be very clear that this poem was in no way inteaded to make fun of the illness that is alcoholism, and if it came off that way to anyone else, I am truely truely sorry. Words can not express that enough for I very much wished the opposite intent. Alcoholism (and addiction in general) is a very serious illness that I take very seriously. I sinceraly hope that anyone who is struggling with it gets the help they need and those of you who are in recovery, I am proud of you. Stay strong and continue to work towards it <3
Once again, my sincere apologies again to anyone who was offended.
Love to you all <3 - Willow-Anne
Next page