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it's kinda funny that every time someone asks me how he died
i know i have to tell them he was a ****** addict with a bad batch of ******
then autocorrect takes over -
and it's "he was a heroine addict with a bad ***** of a heroine"

one rehab after another - he tried to get sober -
but always ran back to drugs
one relationship after another - he looked for someone to save him -
but always ran back to me

maybe i'll stop trying to fix my auto-correct
******, heroine - what's the difference?
we both killed him in the end
 Jul 2021 Chaos Kidd
SG Rose
With curled lips and a growling hiss, he walks among us;
Yet you say you only see beautiful things now.
With a needle tip you shoot the Devil in
and say he takes you closer to feeling God.
One “e” short of the story you were born to finish.
A young heroine turned ******.
 Jul 2021 Chaos Kidd
mandy rigby
I knew straight away it was wrong for me,
but ****** ... was all that i could see.
I knew pretty soon, it would make me sick,
but me thinkin was slow and addiction was quick.

I didnt think then it would ruin my life,
didn't want to be its slave, nor be its wife.
Didn't know then the years would fly by,
for every low there is a high.

Didn't think then my addiction would spread
smoke crack all night, spend the day in bed.

(c) ms rigs 04/10/2014
 May 2021 Chaos Kidd
Darryl M
What a wonderful world it is,
coz when it's beautiful,
it has your legs on my shoulders.

#2...(Sacred acts):
The thickness of his blood all up in her waters.

#3...(Description of a 69):
As he burnt her midnight oils,
and she on the other hand,
gagging over his spilt milk.
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 May 2021 Chaos Kidd
Dark Dream
I tried
I tried with you
I was a mess but I tried
I gave you a piece of me and
I tried to give you more
I tried to make it work
I tried for you
I tried for us
I tried
Her needle breaks my skin and she runs her course through bulging
Just like thick Codeine syrup, she minimizes any evidence or memory of pain.
Throughout my shadowy existence she is a vibrant sun, and she knows **** well she's the only one.
About a girl. And ******. A ******* ******. ****** personified as a girl.
I am clean and have been 7 months, seems the closest I get to that wonderful high is falling in love.
that point inside
your veins
that rips you from
your mind
the one that takes
your soul

it leaves nothing
for you
it takes what it can making
you feel
that without it
you’re not real

it’s drowned
you out
for more than five years
it took away all
your fear
but it’s left you with
nothing more to bear
than a deep hole
inside your arm
that you can only see
with empty brown eyes

I can only say I’ve tried
more than a few times
to help you get it off your mind
but now now you’re only
crushing up more lines

with more lines comes
more tracks
which ends up with
less life and less tact
my beautiful sister,
what made you plunge so deep into the darkness?
was the high just so enticing?
was it a craving for the sting of the needle
as you shoved it through your porcelain skin?
was our love not enough for you?
was it not enough for you to stay?
I wish I knew
why you hated yourself
so much
that your demons forced you
to crave the numbness
and you willingly listened.
I hate you for making my thoughts race,
Is she still alive?
Was there anything I could have done to
prevent this?

But I love you for leaving me with old childhood memories.
my beautiful sister,
I am begging
for you,
to return home.
Give me some of that vitamin H, so my body can sigh
Sit awail, I'll nod a bit, and kiss this world's problems goodby
There'll be no more tears, no need to cry
As my mind is carried off on high
Body so relaxed it forgets to breath
Where I have floated off to, there seems to be no need
With this vitamin running through my veins
I don't feel the need to plant a bullet in my brain
When thoughts of death start to close in
I turn and run to my new friend
It's all a matter of desperation
Locked up tight in my situation
It started as a puncture,
but the seam slowly ripped;
a thimble can't protect
from a poison needle tip.

She tried to mend it
by making more holes;
the tear only grew
and grew out of control.

At the spinning wheel
her life would quickly dwindle;
frantic attempts to hem
were depleting the spindle.

What started as a puncture
of seductive sedation
fueled the abuse
of machined perforation.

"Don't mourn a living corpse"
were the last words she said
as she drew the needle
that held the last thread.
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