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raerion Feb 8
The first drop of honeydew,

the divine sweetness that I never knew,

It's all artificial that, much I'm aware

But God Forbidden,

it's hard to bear.

One by one, these pills,

I clasp in one hand

and pour water to run them down quickly,

slowly, they take their roots

grew out, only to turn out so beautifully

a shame it's a sight only I can see.

somehow, it made me realize that they are

like blossoming roses just for me

a whole garden has been opened

funnily enough,

I've become a gardener of this ecstasy,

I've arrived Knowingly and unknowingly.

to the door which I've opened

where I'm welcomed and beloved

by only those lovingly me

tenderly.
I am drowning in the bubbles that my father introduced me to.
sipping on things I never should have known about
at such a young age

I am genuinely scared about my very existence.
I am so, so exhausted.

I drink until my eyes blur and the world spins.
Then when I wake up
I am still tired.

bubbles.

what a funny concept...

tiny little spheres

floating

in the sips of drinks I should not have.
alcohol addicted.

I am losing my mind.
Mica Wood Feb 6
“What is your necklace?”
Maria asks.
Such a loaded question,

for it is not a necklace at all.
It is a demon,
and I am possessed.

Fruit flavors tickle
my damaged taste buds;
nicotine still breaking through.

Constantly nauseous;
choking on the taste
of burnt cotton…

I cannot breathe
without this noose–
heavy around my neck.
nicotine
touching me
crushing me
its
hard to breathe
hard to see
im
screaming please
come help me
you
look at me
start to leave
what a ******.

youre always so hard to please.
yet i always want you when youre gone...
why is it so hard to quit? i miss when i could make it through the day without craving flavored freaking air.

(self censoring)
Viktoriia Feb 1
it gets better with time.
it gets easier to interrupt the chain reaction,
to stop following down the rabbit hole
of every first subconscious reaction
that triggers a well-tried response.
and if you don't give up on trying
the hope might just carry you through
and across the finish line.
what you have been suffering from
doesn't define you,
but it does get better with time.
15 seconds of reels,
A huge burst of dopamine,
Chasing the same fleeting high,
Riding the endless wave of ups and downs.

2:00 a.m. at the bar,
Shouting into the night,
Lost in conversations with strangers,
While feeling disconnected from those close to us.

We drift through shadowed rooms,
Resting in separate corners,
Searching for a place that feels like home,
Wandering from one room to the next,
Where's home?

Home is monotonous,
We don't chase the comfort of home,
We linger, waiting for something more.

We fill our days with distractions,
Filling voids with temporary thrills,
In a constant quest for meaning.

As the night stretches on,
We wonder if the chase is worth the cost,
Screaming for genuine connection,
Beyond the transient highs and lows.

In the end, we seek a home not just in walls,
But in the quiet understanding,
The kind of peace that isn't found in the buzz.

Home is boring
We don't chase home
We stay there
Tangela Byrd Jan 26
You called out my addiction like my first

name was prescription, getting hanged by

Mr.  Holding on to my last breath like death

was upon me, I was scalding looking for

ways to put out the flames but I was over

charging, hoping one day my scars that

bathed my back would be seen; like a slave

who smelled the leather across its skin

where do I begin, the sins were embedded

in my tissue, thinking that each whip was

inhumane because my soul was too much

to be detained, I wasn’t pouring in to

myself, missing out on ways that defined

my health, a soul crippling cause I couldn’t

see my wealth, I dealt with my shadows

and empty out a well, a space echoed out a

yell like a beast that was trapped in a cell;

peering into the water that was only knee

deep I saw the imprisoned truth that I set

lose so that pebble wouldn’t ricochet

against me, getting goosebumps I escaped

the noose, I reconstructed my foundation

and  catered to the inner me that I grown too
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