Discord is unbridled behind my eyes
I cannot indulge this silence
My conscience is tangled within my senses
Heading towards a past which has not passed

I had a date with Ambition
But, went home with Addiction
She gave birth to Affliction
I am a father, now, to guilt

We sprint, fleetingly, from an idle mind
Forging more treacherous motives
Anxiety is the Queen of my Disposition—
Indulging the vexing discourse within my bones…
Chilly is the quake of snow in my bones
the fresh, white blanket of memories
rooted in ice.

Chilly is the heroin.
the ache
the addiction
to your arms
to warmth.

Chilly is my heart when you are out of reach.
When my pining arms span out
to find only
the coldness
of chilly sheets.

Chilly is the wait–
to be warm.

to be real
Why did you insist on meeting me?
Why did you invite me to the hockey game?
Why did you buy my dos xx?
Why did you send me that witty text?
Why did you flirt so irresistibly?
Why were you so clueless?
Why did you have to kiss me so tenderly?
Why did you come in for a drink?
Why did you do those things with your hands?
Why did you touch me so perfectly?
Why did you keep flirting?
Why did you make me like you?
Why did you listen to music so sensually?
Why did you take me to watch my favorite team, over and over again?
Why did you make drinking fun?
Why (how?) did you make packing fun?
Why did you make me fall in love with your roommate?
Why did you make me fall in love with your eyes?
Why did you make me fall in love with sleeping next to you?
Why did let me develop an addiction to bright light and your kiss?
Why did you get me hooked on your touch?
Why did you have to be so perfect?
Why did you have to make me enjoy life so thoroughly?
Why did you have to make me fall in love with...you?
Why did you have to crush my dreams?
Why are you afraid?
Why am I not enough?
Why am I never enough?
Why can't I just be happy?
Why do I have to cry every night in sorrow?
Why can't I have you?
Why can't I focus?
Why is it I can’t get you off my mind?
Do I have to keep asking why?
I have a confession
I must make
Its eating me up
It keeps me awake
I have an addiction
My soul keeps craving
It always longs for more
It will never stop chasing
The thing I'm addicted to
It's always in my mind
It controls my thoughts
Takes up my precious time
So here it goes
this is hard to concede
me, Kelly Anne
I am addicted to poetry

Poetry constantly runs through my brain
metaphors and rhyming couplets fall like the're rain
If I write a poem, after I just want to read another
I read a poem then write one because I get so inspired
But then I feel my poem isn't good enough
I impulsively write another to redeem myself, it never stops
Soon my thoughts have there own rhyme scheme;
broken into lines, filled with imagery to set a scene
They have a rhythm and are said in a certain tone
Poems always rolling though my head, especially when I'm alone
At night I twist and turn and try to escape
But then I write a poem about inevitable fate
I can't stop the poetry, It takes over my life
Its the poems that keep me up at night

So I guess until they find a cure
I'll live in my little poetry filled world
"Funny, I don't remember no good dope days. I remember walking for miles in a dope fiend haze. I remember sleeping in houses that had no electric. I remember being called a junkie, but I couldn't accept it. I remember hanging out in abandos that were empty and dark. I remember shooting up in the bathroom and falling out at the park. I remember nodding out in front of my sisters kid. I remember not remembering half of the things that I did. I remember the dope man's time frame, just ten more minutes. I remember those days being so sick that I just wanted to end it. I remember the birthdays and holiday celebrations. All the things I missed during my incarceration. I remember overdosing on my bedroom floor. I remember my sisters cry and my dad having to break down the door. I remember the look on his face when I opened my eyes, thinking today was the day that his baby had died. I remember blaming myself when my mom decided to leave. I remember the guilt I felt in my chest making it hard to breathe. I remember caring so much but not knowing how to show it. and I know to this day that she probably don't even know it. I remember feeling like I lost all hope. I remember giving up my body for the next bag of dope. I remember only causing pain, destruction and harm. I remember the track marks the needles left on my arm. I remember watching the slow break up of my home. I remember thinking my family would be better off if I just left them alone. I remember looking in the mirror at my sickly completion. I remember not recognizing myself in my own Damn reflection. I remember constantly obsessing over my next score but what I remember most is getting down on my knees and asking God to save me cuz I don't want to do this no more !!!"
- Delaney Farrell
Written by a friend of mine who is no longer with us. Delaney Farrell lost her battle with addiction last year and she wrote this before her accidental overdose. She was an amazing and beautiful girl... and I’ll miss her every day. Fly free D. We love you.
He tells me that I’m beautiful.
That I’m good at what I do.
He tells me that I’m worth every cent while the clock ticks to two.
The mattress is up against the window.
The door is locked x3.
I sit and watch as the smoke floats and drifts around me.
I use my magic words.
And I do my hair just right.
I’ll make a bunch of money if I can make it through the night.
The drugs make it bearable.
So my body hardly feels.
This is my reality now. This is what is real.
Makeup painted on my face
And Fishnets up my thighs.
I tell him that I need him, right to his buggin eyes.
His pipe and rock are on the floor.
So I watch where I walk.
When he gets it in his system I can hardly even talk.
The paranoia eats his mind
As the clock ticks to 4.
He locks us in the bathroom, so no one can see us anymore.
The last of his drugs are gone
As the hour comes to 5
He tells me that I’m beautiful. That I make him feel alive.
He drops me off at home
And thanks me for what I’ve done.
“Last night was great.” He says with a smile,
“I Can’t wait for the next one!”
Before his teen age
turns the pages he dies
a life through years
of neglect for the frail
bony frame drowsy feet
dark sunken eyes
wandering the street
craving white pure
pleasures and dreams
sores moon crater arms
tributaries of puss
star marks parched skin
dry bloodied screams
of glorious pills injecting
intoxicated stuffs
forbidden fruits
trappings of worldly heaven
addictive octane ecstasy
tiger terminator of
a young man flourishing
now depleted sad
youth corrupted by a love
pursued but lost
eyes vacant years of tears
pleading please forgive
me mom and dad
A life lost through drug addiction.
I'm not addicted to my phone.

I'm addicted to what it brings.

My heart aches when its not with yours.

So my heart leaps when my phone rings.

I don't think of my phone as a simple device to communicate.

I think of it as my connection to you.

My connection to wifi is moot if we can still call.

Because I have iMessage my other apps are few.

So no, I'm not addicted to my phone,

I'm addicted to you.
Go to sleep, it’s past midnight.
And watch your nightmares come to life.
It’s a sick freak show,
Heck we should know,
Mother get me a knife.

This house smells of stale liquor.
The poison blood, it runs deeper.
Take my hand,
It’s so cold,
And soon will be colder and stiffer.

I watch the bruises bloom and fade.
But the shame – it will never change.
I’m always at war,
Face to the floor,
Father, this is what you made.

Drag me down and yank me under.
It feels like home in a whirl of thunder.
Will the sun shine?
Will you reach me in time?
Or back to misery plunder.

Vicious circle, round and round.
Get up, slammed down, get up, down.
I’ll hide amidst torture,
As least it’s familiar,
And I promise not to make a sound.

I see the needle, the stumble in your step.
Eyes roll back, warmth up your neck.
We are all insecure,
How can you be sure?
You’ll die if you overstep.

Put me in a blinding daze,
I don’t want to feel the pain.
Yes, I am running,
Coward? Maybe.
I tried to burn a flame.

I’m not made of china, I don’t easily break.
I am purely liquified so don’t make that mistake.
I won’t hold together,
Unless you cage me in,
Come and get me Lucifer, how much more can I take in?
So dark, as always.
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