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She hears muffled cries of her children
The sight of her children’s pain is blurred
Her voice bubbles when she speaks
Her hands sink deeper when she attempts to help
Her sobriety only lasts for a blink of an eye.
Is she a mother?

His lungs are full when his children’s belly grow empty
His children are lost behind his toxic exhale
His presence robs his children’s pockets
His absence fills their hearts with misery
Is he a father?

Her scars don’t itch when soaked  in ***
But her children drown with them
His fears can’t grow behind the  vapour
But he himself can’t breath neither
Her dreams are shattered
His heart is weary
Their children are cut from their bruised hands
SquidInk Sep 15
dr!nking, sm0king, v@ping
to stop myself from breaking
my mind is in denial
of the toll that this is taking
this isn’t who i want to be
this person that i’m shaping
this version isn’t who i am
the monster i’m creating
my mind is somewhere in the clouds
my dreams are quickly fading
i need to take care of myself
but death is sat there waiting

if i sleep the day away
my world might just stop shaking
but no amount of sleep could ever
fix this kind of aching
Shevek Appleyard Jun 2020
I scowl at you
Nibbling tomorrow’s mistakes
You catch me watching, eyes accused
But I know you’re ready to paint the whole night blue
Slurring apologies and blurring memories
You stumble out promises and throw up on them
You cry into the night and in the morning it’s not yours
It’s my problem

I call in defence for myself
I can’t help
I wipe away your essence
Even the shards I hold pleasant
I tear and delete
Angry at how  
I need more than myself now
To feel complete

Falling into pages of how I felt
But I don’t know how I feel
I don’t know what was real
It’s scariest to focus on further
When all you did was forget

Pitied partings and ***, held in regret
My open heart left no respect
Nexus Apr 2022
I wake up wet and cold at 4AM
So I look in my ashtray for the biggest joint end.
I smoke what's left and lay back for two secs...
Next I check the grinder for any remaining specks.
I bang out all that I can and roll a splith with trembling hands.

As smoke enters my lungs, a tear fills my eye.
Exhaling all hope I begin cry.

I do this to myself with no happiness in life.
I can't control myself this has become my life.
I often ask myself what I want from life.
And find myself wishing that I wasn't alive.
Drug addiction affect everyone differently.
i hate being sober when you're not around
sometimes I question my sobriety
even in the absence
of such distant memories
were they real
or just nightmares and daydreams

now I'm turning 20
and you're not here
i hate being sober
i know on my birthday
I'll just be invisible to you
i hate being sober
i want to turn back time
i hate being sober
i want to be able to see the warning sign
the sign i missed
it was red
like the blood i would bleed for you
but yet we move
i thrive without you
somehow i manage

still, i must confess
i miss you
m lang Feb 2022
my descent into Darkness;
i remember how beautiful It felt.
being swallowed into The Pitiful Abyss
until i was sealed underneath Its surface.
it was pure Bliss.
numbing my emotions,
Its darkness encapsulated my feelings,
keeping them buried out of sight.
falling   diving   sliding
the days grazed into nothingness.
the agony was gone.
It felt wonderful.
there were fires burning above the surface
but no longer were they felt by me,
only others.
It was a beautiful descent.
yet as i slowly began to lose my breath,
Its pain began to to pierce my lungs,
asphyxiating me by means of emotional strangulation.
my unbearable grief fired into my bloodstream,
the effects worse than ******, and without the pleasure.
It's flooding through my veins
as tears endlessly cascaded down my cheeks.
"How did I get here?"
the pain became unavoidable, unbearable.
but how can you become what you already are?
it was then when i realized:
i wasn't sinking into the Abyss,
i was drowning inside of It.
1-31-2022 (i don’t condone drug use and have never done ****** fyi, just a metaphor.)
m lang Feb 2022
we've been playing for months, yet
i am no longer the master of my own game.
i sit and wonder, "how did i get here?"
without ever truly questioning myself.
simply because i knew.
it is as though I am currently without a name.
considerably since "This" is no longer Me.
who I am, who That is,
                I am no longer certain.
I have simply become a replica of Its impression on Self.
      "tick tock, tick, tock."
the arrogance of time refuses to stop,
and "now" becomes a fleeting "then"
as My life slips through "Her"
into a dazed, drunken phase.
time only lingers in the present
for those who are truly Present.
Her time is lost, so what is My time
when the days blur together?
"Her" memory sanitized and wiped cleaned.
***** cleans wounds, right?
Dissociation to self,  the insouciant desire to care.
an erratic, chaotic, tumultuous torrential downpour.
I'm theatrical sure, but passionately so.
"Passion," i'll drink to that.
                   "Pain" has me pouring another,
                                                    and another.
"Reward me," and we'll cheers to the clear liquid that
warms my throat with each increasing gulp.
"Relax." you worked hard, take one or two.
              Six deep, Seven's the magic number,
                          plus, what's one more?

yet one will never be enough.    "sleep or shoot."
                            don't forget to swallow.
                            you know you love it.

stop saying no when You can say "yes,"
and stop holding back, when I'm telling You "NO."

                         stop fighting...
                                      ­ccumb to the misery.
 besides, just one pour will make it all better.
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