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  Sep 2017 The Misconstrued
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
  Sep 2017 The Misconstrued
miki
Sometimes, it's not the unbearable pain that makes you hurt yourself,

It's the emptiness, the hole on your chest, that makes you want it all to end.
The winds of winter are cold.
The snowflakes fall and freeze,
upon a world that's even colder,
than the coldest winter breeze.
This world is dark and bitter,
It taught us to cut our wings,
to use people whom we should love,
and rather love all useless things.
But even snowflakes have the courage
to fall in this world, and melt,
than giving up to its coldness
and spread the warmth it never felt.
So can't you be a little sowflake,
can't you be like melting snow,
that ends a cold today
and brings a warmer tomorrow?
  Sep 2017 The Misconstrued
Remmy
you asked me to draw my past
i drew in red lines and harsh corners with no boundries
red lines because my body is covered in them
harsh corners because the turns my life took often make my neck snap
no boundries because i knew no wrong felt no remorse saw nothing as off limits
you asked me to draw my present
i left the paper blank
i feel nothing
i am nothing
whatever people say to me to help me recover is who i become
i am like a mirror or a blank slate reflecting what the artist wants to see
you ask me to draw my future
i draw triangles and rectangles
because the turns are still sharp but more expected
and i am fitting into society but i'm not a box
art therapy is sometimes fun but it gets so deep
  Sep 2017 The Misconstrued
Jacob Smith
If I tell you everything in my head, will you still be there for me?
If I opened myself up and let you in,
If I fall completely for you and you say you care,
If I trust you enough to tell you what's wrong,
Will you still be there for me?
I've given this trust to others before you,
They broke my trust.
They left me.
They made it harder to believe.
If I believe in you, will you show me I can trust you?
With my heart, with my soul?
If I pour everything inside me, out to you,
Will you still be here for me?
  Sep 2017 The Misconstrued
red
subtle distortion
cloudy perception
hazy apprehension
figment of the imagination
fragmented realities
redrawn by consciousness
staged fantasies
drowned by emotions
reality slipping
deteriorating
bit by bit, darkening
details unraveling
slowly spiraling
a world in the making
eyes affixed
a world rendered
by a troubled mind
delusions unfold
illusions, manifold
ecstatic visions
tangible realities
world full of mysteries
crafted by miseries

and then there is me
left to wander
in a new world
that i crafted
that i masterminded
i know it is
not real
i keep telling myself
nothing's real
i keep persuading myself
it's not real
snap out of it
get out of there
before it's too late
wake up from the trance
but for once
it felt so real
so so real
just to let it all go
  Sep 2017 The Misconstrued
Cheyenne
Something isn't right
I can taste it on your lips
Feel the tremor through my fingers
Resting on your hips

You are scared of me
Scared what I can do
Someone else has hurt you
Now you're scared I'll hurt you too
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