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Nobody 6d
It happened again.
How dumb of me to think I could go more that 24 hours without it.
My worst enemy.
My best friend.
My problem.
My solution.
I don't even know why.
It just happened.
I'm so sorry.
ivan 6d
father is part of my life
father gets home when the sun melts
father sits on his chair and drinks his glass
father yells at a broken glass
father sleeps on the couch
and doesn’t want to go to bed

‘why are you like this?’
father said.
‘you’re made of glass!’
father said.

when the moon is high
father looks at it
he says that reminds him of glass
is it the clear glass?
or is it the dark glass from your drink, dad?

father likes the moon
maybe he sees the light of it when he looks at his drink
its scary
seeing the liquor burn father’s throat
its scary
seeing the dad that loved me
say he’ll give up on me
Damo Nov 3
He stood in his black jacket, 
a cold grey breeze making his skin shiver 
as his shoes touched rusty metal, 
his feet vibrating from the light 
that promised peace, a pleasant feeling. 

It drew closer, 
each second the sound growing louder, 
his body trembling with every movement the light made. 
He glimpsed it brighter to his right, 
but where was the sound? 

Only his inner voice echoed, 
he knew he wanted this, 
but why did he hear only himself screaming? 

The light was near, 
he must move, yet he was stuck. 
This was his chance, his peace, his freedom, 
all he had ever longed for. 

But as he resolved to act, the light passed, 
angels’ faces flashing by, eyes wide with shock, 
and in an instant, his life slipped back into his grasp.

He seeks the blood of Jesus to silence the screams, 
a fleeting calm before the roar returns, louder than before. 

His body, worn and weary from addiction's grip, 
the screaming intensifies as he gazes outside, 
where only clouds loom and trees stand lifeless. 

He can only pray his body will allow him to move today, 
that the light will guide him this time, 
and that the angels will open their arms wide. 

What will still the screaming, 
what will reveal the vibrant colors others see? 
Though the light may lead him away from the screaming and the dead trees, 
It blinds him completely, leaving only darkness.
Would highly appreciate criticism and I would love to hear what you felt while reading this.
Are you out there my Friend.? ? Somewhere The Wind is blowing..? Where your footprints are gone as soon as left. No one to know. No one Knowing.?
       Are you in the Wind? ? A voice, distant, lost in the swirl of snow and Autumn leaves.? Your way Home...unknown.
       The next step taken, but down what path.? Will it lead through this wood, or wander Forever this Dismal forest of Bramble and Thorn? Your clothes ragged, tattered, torn.No shelter in sight. No sheltering insight.
   Crows with eyes bright. Plucking at your sleeves and dress. Catching your skin with talons that gleam, bleeding you like a priest with a fleem. Leaving you wounded and hurt., weary and wary.
       If you would stand still but a moment., cease your struggling and stumbling. Just listen, you'll hear my voice
On the Wind.
Calling you Home.
Safe within the walls and warmth of my arms.
When you know you know. Everybody's rock bottom is different. Take care of your side of the street.
I was playing in the jungle
I was taking lots of risks
I was saying this won't happen to me
I've seen it happening to strangers
But strangers don't exist
I said "I'm too smart, yeah I'm too quick y'see"

I spent more time out in that jungle,
Going once or twice a week,
I was making up excuses to go back,
That snake he was a-watching,
He sensed that I was weak,
he coiled up, preparing to attack...

I made some bad decisions
don't expect you to care
but I'm deep down in the belly of a snake
My friends try to help me,
find my way out of there
But the stomach of that serpent is opaque

his jaws closed around my ankle,
But still I soldiered on,
I can kick him off any time I please,
Before I knew what happened, he had my other leg,
And his scaly maw was up around my knees


People asked about the serpent they said "boy are you ok?"
I didn't have the heart to tell them "no"
Feel digestive juices working,
Yes I'm withering away,
But I tell myself I've some way left to go,

Now that I'm trapped inside,
he takes me everywhere he goes,
As he eats me up he tells me he's my friend
And when I'm inside that serpent,
I don't feel no pain,
And I'm thinking that he was right in the end

Sometimes I get a burst of strength,
and crawl towards the light,
I try to prize those mighty jaws apart
But the outside is so cold and scary,
maybe not tonight;
That I let myself slip down into the dark
Lizzie Bevis Oct 10
The bottle, your loyal companion,
Numbing your pain and fuelling your vice.
Dragging you deeper into the abyss,
Evading the value of your precious life.

Each warm sip, a false promise of solace,
Betraying your heart and ravaging your mind.
Shackled by the chains of hard addiction,
You become a prisoner to demons so unkind.

The cheer of old times fades to silence,
As the light in your eyes slowly dies.
Unsteady with no anchor to ground you,
Treading a sea of lonely unsettled demise.

You tell me you want to break free,
To see the world through sober eyes,
But the waves keep pulling you under,
As you drown in whiskey's tragic goodbye.

©️Lizzie Bevis
like a nosebleed
i usually show up at the worst time.

my guts are spilling on the floor
and i’m wiping the walls with the back of my shirt.

i’ve got prescription paper on the brain
and my back slumped against the wall of an alleyway downtown.

addiction has never been more ****
than a freshly 19-year-old girl with her finger down her throat.

if you could understand how this feels you’d take them too.
you would take them, too.
Bluebird Oct 29
His lungs are filled with nicotine
He feels air beneath his feet.
As if he is floating
Above the
           Scattered
      Books      and
                                  
                             Clothes
        
And  
                              Life
Trytocollectitall
Atoneplace
But       it         is         not       possible

He feels like there is mouthful of cry
Between his jawline
Which apply pressure under his cheeks
And he won't consider it  
                                           real

He feels ground again
It's cold and brittle
It is what he hates
As he hates the truth
So he will light the lighter
To fill his lungs again
This one is about someone I really love but they are beaten by the contemporary_advancement
Each breath
is a reminder of the regrets
living in her body like a cancer…

Breathe in…
One, Two, Three…
Breathe out…
Now my mom’s free,
Or so she thought.
The smoke sends an illusion of peace.
The smell of ember burning,
getting closer and closer to death’s door
as it eats away the cigarettes,
While the time ticks slowly.
Each moment she lights the lighter,
The fire dances,
sending chills down her spine…

She knows it’s bad—
She said to me that she will get better,
but she gets bitter each minute
she holds the box of cigarettes
With the regrets she won’t let go.

Breathe in…
One, Two, Three…
Breathe out…
I don’t recognize my mom anymore.
I miss the old her.
The one who smiles and laughs,
Like a kid at a park.
Or whenever I cry with the fear of her dying
And disappearing,
she would hug me close and told me this;
“Don’t worry, baby…
Mama won’t let go of you.”
Now, she clutches a box of cigarettes.
Each breath she breathes
is a broken promise.
The mom I knew is fading in the smoke.
The mom I knew is in this photo,
But I want the real her.

Breathe in…
One, Two, Three…
Breathe out…
Now my mom’s gone from my life.
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