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Michelle Nov 2024
It starts as a whisper, soft in my chest,
A thought unbidden, unkindly guest.
The urge to reach, to bridge the divide,
Where silence now stretches, too wide, too wide.

I pace the floor; I cradle my phone,
In this quiet war, I’m never alone.
Your name, like a needle, ****** at my brain,
Rewinding the reel of our joy and our pain.

Each old message, a relic, a hit,
I scroll through the past, scratching the itch.
The words are hollow, their warmth has fled,
But I cling to their ghosts like they're still being said.

My heart races faster, my reason grows dim,
This craving feels cruel, a fight I can’t win.
To press "send" would be bliss, a fleeting reprieve,
But I fight the withdrawal, cry tears on my sleeve.

So I silence the urge, let the moment decay,
And watch as the craving slowly fades away.
The answer’s not hidden in words I once knew,
But in learning to live without reaching for you.
egg hot pot Nov 2024
If your dad is cheating on your mom clap your hands
'thump thump'
if you have a problem with self harm clap your hands
'thump thump'
if your mother hates you clap your hands
'thump thump'
if you cant control your addictions clap your hands
'thump thump'
if you are a academic loser clap your hands
'thump thump'
if you wanna end it clap your hands
'thump thump'
ivan Nov 2024
the reality the world
do you really wanna know?
curious boy
will die easily




YOURE SICK




okay, curious one
now hear gunshots
blood spatting
is it good yet?

no, you wanna see it yourself
the good friend holds a a sign
‘wanna see a dead body?’
eyes rolled back
this is what you lack


YOURE SICK
YOURE SICK
YOURE SICK
YOURE SICK
this addiction is so hard
Vanessa Miller Nov 2024
its almost 5 in the morning

Sneaks up without warning
Habit forming
Addictions storming
Dope burning
Stomach churning
Still yearning
Never learning
Its concerning
Its alarming
How I keep returning
Its disturbing
I'm not deserving
Who Am I Becoming

When you look in the mirror and don't recognize your own face
all ****** up you're a ******* head case
The type of lifestyle it creates
Feeling like nothing more than a disgrace
All you really want is just another taste
Of the **** that got you here in the first place

Old habits die hard I believe that to be a fact
Braced myself for the impact
Why do I keep on coming back
Chaos and calamity I attract

Nothing soothes the savage beast
Nothing I do brings me peace
I'm longing for that sweet release
Just a little bit at least

I don't know anything that's worse
Than this generational Curse
Me and my demons converse
Its ****** up when you don't know your worth

Hate the fact that you've got to have it
Do **** near anything to feed the habit
Head so full of ******* static
Earn yourself a straight jacket
Steve Nov 2024
I’m not addicted
I’m just conflicted
This phone’s my friend
Till batteries end.

Fingers prone
I jab this phone
My face lit up
Like a buttercup.

If you’re on your phone
You’re never alone
The world is there
With room to spare.

You’re with your friends
Till the rainbow ends
I’m telling you
This phone’s brand new.
People tell me all the time.
Nobody Nov 2024
Slice
Slice
Slice
I told myself i wasnt addicted
Cut
Cut
Cut
I was doing so well
Scrape
Scrape
Scrape
Got in a fight with my friend
Bleed
Bleed
Bleed
Why do I do this to myself...

Blood bleeds through my jeans
Red blotches, displaying my shame
My pain
Yet they still believe me when i say im ok
I got in a fight with my friend. She and i had a lot of rough patches through the last couple years. I admitted to her i made some mistakes but she refuses to recognize that she literally left me with trauma and says that i was just being a *******. She refuses to see my side of the story. We just finished the fight over text and i got the urge to... yeah. I was clean for 5 days. Haha thats a personal record for me since august. How dumb of me to think that i could go a week without it. Am i the problem??? Did i make the mistake??? Also for context this isn't what i meant by my main trauma source, just part of it. Not ready to talk about the other part yet
ivan Nov 2024
i feel wires in my lungs
they dont let me breathe

i feel wires in my throat
they dont let me speak


‘IVAN’
the pill bottle has my name on it!!
that’s fun
they’ll fix me, right mom?

take one
take two
take three
..come on, take one more

mom, i feel dizzy!
should i take one more to ease it?
the meds might work :p
Jack Groundhog Nov 2024
I once checked into an old hotel
that’s served guests for many a year.
The white-clad staff will serve you well
and greet you brimming with cheer.

Its handsome brick and stone façade
shines gold in the bright morning sun.
Inside, the red velvet furnishings’ a nod
to the lovers’ tall tales there spun.

The rooms are filled with patchouli scent,
or perhaps with a strong note of musk.
At first you’ll easily make the rent
and stay there from dawn until dusk.

Oh, how well could I in that chamber sleep
on starry fields of Elysium each night,
my baggage packed in cotton I’d keep
to stow it from whatever gave fright.

But the longer this hospitality I had
the more a locked hospital it became;
the doors that’d welcomed this young lad
soon rusted, harder to open again.

I chatted with the friendly concierge
and noticed the crease of his smile
was curled into the quirk of a sneer
while his light humor shifted to bile.

The mattress that once was thick and soft
grew coarse and lumpy with age
while the vistas seen from the gilded loft
were obscured by the bars of a cage.

The red velvet’s colors began to bleed.
All was gilded with the gold of fools.
Once this hotel had for me filled a need —
but it sought to make me its ghoul.

This hostel had to hostile turned,
its host was revealed as a warden.
With time I learned its charms to spurn
and escape to a greener garden.

Even now that hooking hotel calls,
a sultry siren who woefully wails
and summons her guests — or thralls? —
to deep sleep in her heavenly jail.
Richard Deykin Nov 2024
The lights i live by Are not disco lights
They go red , amber,green
Red man , green man
Does movement or stop
Fill my crippled paper cup
I like the light it crackals
But I live by is darker
Lives beneath my skin
Were I am dead
Maybe one day
It will be my disco
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Do you have 50p
Really i need 20
About begging at traffic lights
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