On that day my soul grew drunk
The cooked curiosity craving
The passion never slaving
I crave the soused, sick spirit

Instead I uncovered the affinity
The vehemence smiled
What could there be more purely piled?
I crave the temptress, thirsty thing

Suddenly, I heard some feeling
My ambition, I could not awaken
While I pondered, bibulous and forsaken
I crave the tippling, touched target
Jo Barber Mar 8
Take another drink,
This one sweet,
The next sour.
Perhaps the bitter taste of whiskey will
wash away the bitter taste
Of life.
I laugh when I think of how completely,
How utterly,
How blindly
I trusted you.
With my life.
My heart.
My love.
Yet, you never trusted me.
Whatever faith you had
Was lost long ago.
No, it was stolen, rather.
Stolen by a dishonest God,
By a fearsome father and a shameful mother.
Both were so unlike the Father and Mother
They preached to you.
God didn’t ask for the burden of you.
You didn’t ask for the burden of me.
Can I run?
Would you grant me this sweet escape
From the trials of today and the
Terms of tomorrow?
Would you do me this kindness,
Of which I’ve never asked before?
Would you save me from this blindness,
Of which I have no use for?
skyler Mar 1
i crave you
like an addict
searching for their fix
oh sweetheart
has never tasted so sweet

Jasmine Reid Feb 24
The static settles, finally I see a channel that isn't a rainbow,
And the voices are clear as the day, no rain.
I have no stakes, as I watch this show,
trying to ignore this feeling, this little tow.

Even if I put my music in, nice and loud, just to try and drown it all away, it helps like medicine, but it will always come back eventually,
I'm not a cute little doe, but you are a mighty buck, strength resides in you, while weakness envelopes me and my fear,
I tremble internally

I'm not going to be with anyone, and no one is going to be with me, they all hate me, I know it, I feel it, especially from the buck now.
Antlers powerful and strong, ready to knock me down, stab me into the ground, let my blood pour and stain your hands.
Do It.


I am desperate not to feel these things anymore,
these emotions that have come to me, with steadily realisation that they are real, I've discovered the cancer inside me, from the cigarette butts that were your voice and laugh that consumed me, and your hugs of blanket warmth, the disease that has settled within me.

You've infected my brain, like drugs have done to addicts.
I really despise having..feelings for people.
The choice to stop was mine.
The addiction itself was a different story.
Doctors don't write prescriptions for this kind of stuff.
The cold sweats associated with anger.
The beginning is the hardest part.
Admitting temptation.
I was addicted.
The situation had ended but I kept obsessing.
Knowingly risking health.
The way you feel, the way you taste.
I couldn't afford to lose you as well as myself in the process.
Properly insuring another substance for another.
The cost of Medicare.
It was my decision, my choice.
Your voice a constant peer pressure of finding bliss.
If only for a minute.
At some point I ignored my own voice.
Reaching for you again.
I acknowledge that it was my responsibility.
Blaming everything around me, even you.
In this brief moment, common sense wasn't so common.
Not anymore.
Forgetting that actions have consequences.
For every second I ignore you.
You whine, you cry.
Becoming my chronic illness.
The enabler to what ever complaint.
It's hard to quit.
Finding every excuse except the right one.
She was the highway.
I was the traveler.
Weary in search of exit.
This road becoming longer and longer.
The lights becoming more and more distant.
Each exit in-between stops having fewer establishments.
Additional signs appearing with more temptation.
The cold sweats are back, this anxiousness to reach for something that I know isn't there.
This addiction to hold you, crave you, taste you.
This urge to love you as much as I did.
This persistent itch that I can't live without you.
Doctors don't write prescriptions for this kind of stuff.
The warning labels causing more harm than good.
Reminiscing on times that I shouldn't.
The choice to stop was mine.
To love someone that doesn't love you back
Amanda Feb 7
I will not let my
Sobriety define me.
I am more than that.
Although recovery is a big part of my life, I would rather focus on other things like the people I love and my passion for writing. I don't want to be seen as an addict for the rest of my life counting days til her next relapse, I just want to be seen as someone who had to go through some stuff to become the amazing woman she is today. Addicts are people too.
A faint echo of the rain
Leaving the streets in pain,
Gradually calming calamity,
Lonely streets of sanctity.

Upon a rusted sewer grate
He lies, a broken waste.
Broken without sobriety,
Addicted to the melody.

The melody of the rain,
Elaborate, fervent dancing,
Mesmerizing bringer of rust.

A kaleidoscope of street lights,
Waylaid by the rain's knights.
Puddles of crystal clear sight,
Markers of an addict's delight.

The thumping of machinery,
A means to an end for humanity
Transport me to your city,
Bloated with delight and pity.
Amanda Jan 27
If someone told me when I was young,
That I would grow up to be,
A drug addict I would have said,
"Impossible, no way, not me!"

When we are kids we don't realize,
How far we will go to fill the space,
We want peace but don't understand,
The consequences we then face.

The pain it slowly changes us,
We do what we can to ease the sting,
As a child, no one tells you
The world is full of suffering.

We all get caught up in the struggle,
And amidst the constant ache,
We somehow start to lose ourselves;
Something inside of us starts to break.

We feel like we have no choice,
But to fill this empty hole,
With whatever we can find,
So desperate, we lose control.

Our desire to numb ourselves,
Becomes our biggest downfall,
We cover up the grief in our hearts,
With sex, drugs, and alcohol.

We find a crutch to lean on,
To help relieve us of our sorrow,
But what you use to get through today,
Will make you feel worse tomorrow.

At first it's every once in awhile,
But sooner than you think, it's routine,
And you are drowning in addiction,
Deeper than a submarine.

You begin to feel hopeless and lost,
You forfeit the person you were,
Running in circles, chasing the high,
Until the days become one big blur.

You hope that this is just a bad dream,
You don't know how much more you can take,
You want to escape the nightmare.
You can't, you're already awake.

You've exhausted every resource,
Your energy, money, and time,
You find yourself behind a wall,
That is impossible to climb.

You want to reach out to someone,
But are unable to budge,
You are too scared to share your secret,
Because even loved ones will judge.

So you keep your habit concealed,
And try to hold yourself together,
Determined not to fall apart,
This storm you continue to weather.

You want to be normal again,
Tired of feeling alone,
So you try to wean yourself down,
But your tolerance has grown.

It doesn't matter how much you have,
It always leaves you needing more,
No amount you can buy will be enough,
To stop the battle and win the war.

So damned fatigued from fighting,
Wearied by the constant combat,
Wondering how you will get your next fix,
And when you do; the one after that.

You become a slave, you give into,
Your body's every demand,
Too proud to ask for help because,
No one could possibly understand.

The longer you hide your wounds,
The more it hurts, blood is shed,
This endless cycle has you trapped,
In a prison built in your own head.

Eventually, the day will come,
When you spend all your cash,
You lost your job now everything,
You hold dear has turned to ash.

But still you do whatever it takes,
Borrow from friends and family,
Swear that this time you'll pay them back,
The drug becomes first priority.

Guilty, you already know you can't,
Pay back the loan, how can you when,
Every last dollar you come
Up with gets spent on heroin?

You spin stories and you lie,
Until no one trusts a word you say,
And you don't recognize yourself,
The old you has been thrown away.

You sold all your belongings,
Whatever didn't sell is in pawn,
There are only two options when
All other support is gone.

Option one: become a prostitute,
Sell your body on the streets,
Accept money from strangers,
In exchange for time between the sheets.

Option two: be a thief and steal,
Any items you can get a hold of,
Taking from anyone that you can,
Even if it hurts those you love.

This is where you hit rock bottom,
Sometimes that's what it takes to see,
That the only way upwards,
Is to create your own Option Three.

You finally have had enough,
You decide to take control,
A life without substances,
Becomes your one and only goal.

You're willing to do whatever it takes,
To be free of this poisonous drug,
Even if you die trying to
Climb out of this grave you have dug.

You've made up your mind, you've had enough,
You realize all you have lost,
It's clear the feeling dope produces,
Isn't worth the very high cost.

You put down the needle for good and
Say goodbye to the dark world you hate.
You vow to no longer live your
Life in a catatonic state.

The first part is hardest: detox.
Withdrawal is the worst kind of pain,
Three sleepless days and nights of hell,
Erupting in your body and brain.

But once you make it over the hump,
It gets easier, I swear!
Each day the weight of addiction,
Becomes lighter and lighter to bear.

In time you will learn to shut out,
The voice that lives in your head,
You won't crave drugs anymore,
When you're done you crave love instead.

Just look at me, I'm living proof,
That it's possible to return,
To the life you had before,
But first patience you must learn.

You will never be who you were
Before the drugs changed you inside,
Being broken makes you stronger,
Faded track marks are nothing to hide.

You are more beautiful now,
And despite what most say is true,
You do not have to always be
An addict. You can just be you.
Sorry for how long it is, I have been working on this since Christmastime! This is a very honest piece about how some of us have to live. You always have a choice!
Pressing blades against my skin
Trying to break the pain I'm in
Dig my nails into their beds
Drowns the screaming in my head
Getting high to settle down
Of course there's no one else around
Alone in this you left me here
Fuck, why's your voice all that I hear?
Meaby Pom Jan 16
In an ear I would whisper lies
Followed by A reply,
A pleasured sigh.
Put your lips to mine
Feeling my hips pressed in thighs
was something I could not,
Would not romanticize.
Sex and love where split
With A push, A gasp, A drip,
A leash, A belt, A whip.
Once An addict
This I can admit.
I know better now,
I know there is A lot more to it.
A new found bliss;
There is A lot more power in A kiss
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