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Alvin Agnani May 17
My mind is slipping.
Dripping in ink-like substance.
Feeding the rot.
Metastasizing throughout.
Loss of control.
Subjugated by chemical agents in conjunction with brain activity.

The real me.
You don't know.
And never will.
For I am still.
When you draw near.

Bittersweet addiction.
Sometimes I am sweet on you.

To my dismay...
It comes and goes.
I cannot change.
We are who we are.
I wish a dream was easy to buy into
like a cancer stick;— dying for a piece.
Inhaling vapors, and blowing off
smoke in a puff of dreams.

Life is like a cigarette; an addiction
to living with feelings of regret.
Time is all ashes, slowly deducting
your frame till death,
And love consumes the lungs;
too much of the wrong kind,—becomes toxic.
To advertise the biggest buyers of such dreams
for a rich life like a **** cigarette;
To be honest with the kind of addiction,
being rich appears costly.

But I guess if I'm an old truck blowing
smoke, it just means I'm exhausted.
Addicted to the cigarette life,
whether tip toeing, or running towards death,
either side, do play it cautious.
Cos whatever end you smoke the cigarette,
all roads lead to death.
I was raised in my father’s ill-timed
           old ways: as a man saying how he feels,
           was like ash in his ashtray. And I had
           smoked up a few reasons of not finding
           certainty; but instead finding answers in
           all addictions as a troubled youth.

I remember looking for a quick fix,
          like a constant broken clock—
         without a lot of time.
         As it felt better not to admit to why I
         was crying secretly at night, and instead
         going around faking all of my smiles.

As I never once felt like I could fit an
        ounce of myself in my family, and
        sometimes the thought of being a
        mistake would be a thought I’d accept
        so gladly.
“I’ve been a fool, I’ve been a ******,
           I’ve been an idiot, I’ve been a coward,
           and I’ve been less than a good friend,
           Feeling less of myself most times, in
           saying I don’t amount to anything”—
           were all of the things plaguing my head.

I’ve been so sick of love,
          pretending to have known it as much
          And to my luck, I’ve been unlucky enough
          to know the way I lived felt like a vortex,
         cos it always ******.

Sprung out on how I forced my appearance,
        sitting on bottled emotions, ignoring
        how I’m really feeling— all thought
        to show a man in their great zealous.
        Such a lie it was; and a door to the
        knowledge of depression, that I tried to
        hide so well, with years of experience.

Cause I was taught,
          “real men don’t show their feelings”
           Still what are these feelings, I’m feeling?

Feeling sad, depressed, a mess,
          who can’t confess that sometimes
          he's a mess and not always at his best.
          Still, self-perfection isn’t what the
          whole world expects. And unless this
          boy chooses not to digress from tackling
          the feelings that have him compressed; that
          boy will only be a boy who still sits in their
          mother’s nest.

Cos no bird will truly soar where it rests—
          so would I; never be a man in this crazy
          world, by just covering up all of my sores
          in my heart with a bulletproof vest. I
          already swallowed up those bullets; choking
          up on all of the words of, not saying
          what’s beating at my chest.

Today, today marks the day,
          I threw out that **** ashtray.
         Cos the ash in that tray, made me feel
         like, the *** of the day. And I refuse to
        do the donkey-work, of pretending that
         I’m always okay.

        No, I'm not okay, because I’ve spent
        my life being burnt by the scorching
        ash, in that old ashtray.

                          It’s time for healing.
Kayla Chappell May 2023
As you close the curtains
I close my eyes too
But i still feel
What ive always felt for you.

And when the sun awakens,
So will you.
Maybe youll apologize,
Sometimes you do.

Whats been accomplished here
Im not sure.
Im constantly on a swing
Back and forth from
Can i love myself
And love you.

Im not sure what my goal is here
Maybe i was placed as a lesson
For you.

Im tired of being the lesson
I want to be the prize.
I want to feel desired.

Your eyes locked in mine

I am the fixer
I dont want perfect
I will always water you
Even if its not worth it.
If i dont get anything back
At least i am with purpose.

But your soil has dried out
I pour myself over
Nurturing you
Every last drop
I squeeze out to water you.

Your roots are too damaged
My flow still everlasting,
I seem to think.

But each drip you take
Is thrown away.
I take the water
That I desperately need
And give it to you.

Clinging to each moan
Each time we electrute

Infinite energy.
My *** is empty
Yet i know I have more,
So i keep going.
Your eyes and mine
But then the stars say, its time.
You cant turn from truth
When its looking your right in the face.
Begging you, to not run away.

You need to take a look deep inside.
I am the prize.
But we've lost track of time
Fun times turned to addictions
Actions turned vindictive
I know that white powder is so pretty
But its not a human being.

I miss being
The one you want to touch
Even if its lust.

Yearning for the day,
That i look in the mirror and can accept my face.
In my eyes,
All i see is damage.
Most days i see in grey.

I want to explore.
******* tired of being ignored.
So please step up,
Do you have what it takes?

If not, sit down
And let the next man take your place.
I have too much love to give
Jokes to have
Laughter to live
To sit here
And accept this fate.

Im taking control of my day.
Ill be the one to put a smile on my face.

If you know you know.
My Dear Poet Apr 2021
“Look after your Soul”,
that old preacher would say
Cherish with your life
or it may wither away
Take care, to take care
and guard it well
Lest it becomes so sickly
it’s fit only for Hell
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
You were a drug to me, babe.
      You weren't the medicinal kind either.
                                          You weren't just a painkiller.
You weren't an antidepressant.
                                                     You weren't a Xanax.
                                                        You weren't ******.
You weren't even the good kind of drug.

                    You weren't ****** or **** or ecstasy.
You were the kind of drug that
                                           messed around with my heart and left my brain feeling clouded.
You were the kind of drug that left me confused and
                                                                               feeling worse than before I took you.
But I did.
Again and
I told myself I would
break this vicious cycle of unscrewing your cap and
                                                                   hating myself for it afterwards.
That I wouldn't draw back the plunger and
                                                          force you into my veins anymore.
But I didn't.
Again and

I told myself you
                                                would be the death of me.

Every high you gave me left me feeling
                                                                          lost in the clouds.

I might as well have been
                                    six feet deep.
This poem was written in 2016.
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
You were the definition of
You were the    blood
                                  in my veins, and
the smoke     in my lungs.  
I was addicted to you in the worst of ways.
It was you who could quench the eternal thirst at my lips. And it was you who could satisfy the ravenous hunger in my bones.
You were everything I needed all at once. And You gave me everything I ever wanted.
A love that
Check out the other poems in the "Addictions" series!
This poem was written in 2016.
Kimmy Oct 2020
Dear addiction
                    This is goodbye

You have been a close friend, that i have always been able to count on over the years
Always had my back through all the highs and lows,
You have  had a huge impact on my life  but not in a good way!
I have now realized how much time I have wasted on you
I also have realized how many times you have taken advantage of me
Especially when i was at my most vulnerable
Im tired of letting you control me
Im tired of always having to depend on you to make me feel a certain way.
Im tired of this love- hate relationship im ready to release this shame
And self-hatred you have been causing me for so many years,
I am ready to find freedom for myself and create a life that is worth living
Thank you for all the important lessons you have taught me about my self
Better off
Without you💕
I am in the process of beating my addiction. Its hard and yes there are times I want to give up. Then I think of how everything was just so wrong and messed up. My mind couldn't handle anymore abuse... I had to stop.
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