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ym  Mar 2014
ym Mar 2014
euphoric paranoia
               accompanies your touch
as you finger your way
               under my skin
shadows on the curve
               of your neck
jitters of reality
               involuntary fantasy
caverns in my body
               unrecognizable reflections
disintegrating away
               maybe its your love
                            maybe its meth
olivia grace  Sep 2013
olivia grace Sep 2013



can’t remember

which substance?



fill up my cup

fill up my pipe

fill up my syringe

fill up my veins

fill up my heart til it’s beating hard enough for me to feel alive

feed the mermaid in my kneecaps with glitter liquid

any kind

to make me forget

just want to use

to make me forget the pain
when he lays hands on me
lays his own
on me

someone once told me, substance abusers are weak
face your problems head on
why do you need to see stars before you wake up
why is coke your coffee
why is whiskey your orange juice
why is meth your pancakes

and I say
if I am weak
then how come I can cling onto the clouds

perhaps, if I could live to be 1000 years old
I will have clinged to the clouds long enough for them to get sick of me

but for now, those clouds are my demons
and I’ve never loved the color red
so much
La Mer Sep 2014
Eight pounds of thorough cocaine
split between two brothers of Zaragoza, Spain
the love for substance has lost all of it's hope
time for family split between hours of dope
there was a newborn with wings, without a full day
because the love for substance stood directly in the way.
Genevieve  Apr 2014
Genevieve Apr 2014
When I say I feel empty,

it's not the way I haven't eaten
in days
and vomited so much
my teeth are rotting.

It's not the loneliness,
when I am lying in bed alone
At 3am and all I hear are
The monsters in my head

It's not my parents fighting again,
Throwing glass at each other
In anger and rage
Right infront of their children.

It's my life.

My life has no substance,
I mean nothing to the world
Empty space
Wasted air.

I'm not sure how to fill this hole
But I'm trying to get better
I'm stepping out of old habits
Finding something new
To focus on
To fill the time
Day by day
As it passes right before your eyes.
Klaus  Oct 2012
No substance
Klaus Oct 2012
This cigarette;
A disguised kiss
Is it

This barley wine
While bathing with mine
Am I

This green
A safe dream
So it seemed

No bloom
This grief and gloom
It is
a woman of substance the magazine proclaims
and what are these "substances" may I ask?

Its her grit and determination
her will to succeed
to overcome and defend her rights
if need be
loving and nurturing are not her only duties
she can also break your heart or break your bones
messing with her is not a risk you need
she creates her own space
she finds her own niche

She may be a social butterfly, a business woman,
a sports star, a housewife or a maid indeed
but a woman of substance is one of a kind indeed
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Umang K  Jan 2015
Just Chemistry
Umang K Jan 2015
You can literally manufacture it in a chemistry lab;
There are formulae and measurements of hormones that add up
To this supposedly tangible entity

A nicely brewed test tube
Of elaborately named chemicals

The very thing that makes you tremble in your skin,
That has caused wars and set ships assail
Confined to a liquid in a glass container
"There is a clarity you feel...something like a bride would feel, removing a veil and seeing her husband without it. No thin mesh, clouding you. There is a clarity you feel when you finally put down your abuse."

I say while abusing once again. It's funny how light on dark moments makes the light seem brighter than normal. The truth is, the light is no different than any other day, but since you've never seen the light here its brighter. A funny perspective skew. With abuse it's the same way. You quit, give up the vice that holds you tighter than any human hand. And feels more comfortable than love. You quit addiction for sun light because after you've given death a few rounds you realize that sun isn't just bright...it's warm.

It touches your skin
and all your cells race
to the surface,
antioxidize my sins.

Months pass and you become used to the light. It's normal again, and it grows weary under the weight of the boots. The veil would be better than this.

It was better than this.

And so the light becomes the same, and maybe you need darkness again to feel that warmth. Maybe you need the vice to cut off your circulation, make you shiver in the summer winter. So that sunlight doesn't just slide past you, so that it touches you again, the way it did when you opened your eyes for the first time...

Guilt rides your
back instead,
the warhorse
of an individual

You make it, though...you keep secrets, you tell lies, so no one knows. It's not just darkness, it's silence, to deprivate from

"You can get through this"
"You'll be okay"
"Youre strong"

Because paranoid whispers are better friends. But it takes awakening from the right dream to remember that the sun loves you more. Your sun loves everyone, it pours down on everyone, it fills the darkness. All the darkness is just empty space anyway. Waiting for something warm to fill it.

It takes awakening from the right dream to make you realize that the sun doesn't just fill darkness, it grows life, it lives at the crest of mountain peaks, above the ocean of clouds.

So you understand that sun lights a path,
and you run it,
you plant feet
oaks blossom.

You never again take the world for granted.
You never again compare light.
Because even if it is the same light overflowing a new dark,
It is a growing light.

And it is always warm,
And it sometimes burns.
samantha neal  Feb 2015
samantha neal Feb 2015
I kissed you
and tasted alcohol
staining your lips

I didn't find this wrong
Or unusual
Or concerning

All I could think about
Was how I wanted to become
Something you were addicted to

I wanted to drip past your tongue
Pour down your throat
Bitter but enjoyed

Turn to me when you need comfort
Let me haze your mind to take away all pain
Blur your vision so you don't see what you don't want to

I can be your new intoxication.
Abstracted Dec 2014
There is the smoke dancing through the gentle air.
Rising whirls of a diminishing fate contrasted ever so clear.
Pushed and pulled with out a care at all.
Becoming what is to become
From the ashes of what never was.
I love to watch smoke dance freely off of a substance abused.
Zach Hanlon  Sep 2015
Zach Hanlon Sep 2015
Cars and gasoline and traffic,
Weddings, birthdays, and funerals,
The days, the months, the years.
Failures, mistakes,
Accomplishments, burden.
Life wears thin
as time gains substance.

Lifespans measured through the good and the bad days,
All a distant memory in the end.
Yellow Boots Apr 2015
It's when I write about you
that everything gets clear again,
the compass points North again,
I'm found when it's you I write about.
Puppy, you, my last cigarette
that it's today, then it's tomorrow,
then it's never
(might denote substance abuse on my part,
lack of substance on yours,
plenty of essence, puppy eyes you).
Your stubble-ness that never hurt
my skin, my drama queen attitude
that's so last year.
We've both grown, now
irony is free, a laughter
that wakes up the neighbors, mine,
your sobriety, sober shirts, sober posture;
you don't get my jokes anymore, do you?
Puppy serious grown-up haircut,
pass my hand through your hair,
teach you how to be stray and free again,
tell you all is good, I still love you
like an orphan a passer-by, you
so northerly cold, fierce, insecure, mask
behind which my golden puppy lies sad
unaware of substance, essence
caught on a leash that's his own free will.
Meg Howell Feb 2015
With beady,
lurking eyes
they pass judgement
looking for just one
"fatal flaw" to mock
Regurgitating false statements
giving them absolutely
no hope
for a future
ah, they say they have
but a single care
in the world
to provoke
to harass
those with substance
which they so evidently lack
what a world to live in
It's rather childish,
don't you think?
There are people in the world who pointlessly mock others. If that is all life is worth to someone, to make fun, to hurt, then what a worthless life to live. In all honesty, people like that are hurting themselves more than any other person.
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