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Kelly Miller Nov 2016
You want me to believe that this world is complete, delicate, special.
But how can I believe such a thing when nothing is being done to the children and adults who get abused and neglected?
How can I believe that this world is protective when the police system did nothing about a **** situation of a 6 year old girl?
How can I believe that this world is complete when we can't even be different without being judged?
How can I believe that this world is special when there's still so much wrong with it?
How can we see the world as such a thankful life when we can't even go out on the front porch to play without someone shooting accusations at our mind; making us think this world is perfect when in a real reality... it's not.

There's still poverty and blood shed of innocent victims because we pick the wrong people to "protect" us.
There's still so much to learn even if we can't see what the future may hold.

Ask me...
Ask me how my life is.
What has happened in my life?
So many things I wish I forget.

There's the alcoholic father:
The one who lets his daughter sip his beer to get "enjoyment".

There's the missing mother:
The one who never fought for her daughter and never looked for her.

Then there's the sister:
The one that would make people happy; was always a joy to be around but everything changed when she was gone.

At age 4 there was a little girl who wanted everything: a happy family, a fun life, protective brothers but that girl got the complete opposite.
Age 5:
Age 6: *****
Age 7, age 8, age 9
Age 10: Depression
11: Depression
12: Anxiety and depression
13: Anxiety and courage
14: Panic
15: Depression, anxiety, panic
16...

Age 13 was the year the girl finally told her sister-in-law about the **** her brother did. Only 3 people believed her.
Not her father, not her father's girlfriend, not her 3 brothers, not the police.
She was alone.
She tore and ripped through her anxiety like it was nothing to achieve absolutely... nothing.

There's a woman trying to get a boy into her car while he screams, "You can't make me!"
There's a man forcing a woman to have *** after 3 times that morning and she says, "You can't make me!"
There's a little girl being abused by her father when he said, "**** yourself."

That girl slipped through his hands and past his heart while the knife hit hers, and she whispered her last words to the alcohol running along her father's lips and the cheek he pressed against hers while he forced things upon her all done by laying in the hospital bed whenever she had come to see him. She silently took her last breathe with the words, "Daddy, you made me do this."
hazael-fae Oct 2016
Mom
Mom, he won't listen to us
Mom, he won't put down the bottle
Mom, he is screaming at us again
Mom, he put his hands on us again
Mom, he made my brother run away
Mom, he is ruining my family
Mom, he made my brothers scary
Mom, he doesn't care if she's abusing us
Mom, he won't buy me new shoes these ones don't fit anymore
Mom, he is wasting all his money on alcohol
Mom, he won't go to meetings
Mom, he is shaking what is wrong with him
Mom, he is hiding the bottles from us
Mom, he is not willing to quit
Mom, he has lied to us so many times
Mom, he is trying to get us to call her mom
Mom, he is breaking things
Mom, he is getting worse with his dad gone
Mom, he is getting worse
Aztec Oct 2016
When you left
I needed a new addiction
something that would let me forget you but would let me  remember  how your tongue tasted.
Soon after that alcohol turn into my baby.

-Aztec
Julia Mae Oct 2016
i have never felt so terrible
i have never been an option
it's either me, or a bottle
and you choose the bottle
every time
every single time
your addiction does not love you
not like i do
yet you cannot see
you never listen
you are drowning, lost and gone
i can't help holding on
i can't keep hurting myself
along the razor edges of your broken bottles
as broken as you are
so i only wish, for you to take of yourself
i cannot keep watching you **** yourself
thoughts. i am really lost lately.
Sitting in a darkened bar
Ten dead soldiers in a row
My bladder was now screaming
It's time for you to go

I ordered up another drink
Left my seat, went down the hall
And on my way back to the bar
I saw a number on the wall

Help...it said, is close, close by
It's nearer than you think
Call, the number that you see
Before you order your next drink

I thought, it doesn't make much sense
I've got my life under control
I haven't bottomed out quite yet
I'm only half way down the hole

Four more drinks and then again
I stumbled down the hall
And coming back, I once more read
The notice on the wall

Help...it said, is close, close by
It's nearer than you think
Call, the number that you see
Before you order your next drink

I put a dime into the payphone
I thought I'd give it one good try
Before I hit rock bottom
I'd call them up or else I'd die

A friendly voice responded
"out of service...try again"
I laughed at this short message
Then I tried it once again

I checked the number on the notice
Dialed it, and then I heard
the message "out of service"
I laughed at every word

It seems that "out of service"
Was a title I should hold
After all I was a soldier
Out of work, and drunk, and cold

Those three words, they described me
"Out of service" , right bang on
No one cared that I was falling
Who would notice when I'm gone?

I went back to my barstool
Downed my drink and got one more
I thought, I'd better have another
Before I stumbled out the door

Before I went, I ventured
To the jukebox, checked for change
The sign said "out of service"
I thought that that was strange

Twice now, "out of service"
In a message sent to me
Was I truly worth redemption
A hopeless case for all to see

I figured that tomorrow
If I found I woke up dead
"out of service" were the last words
That were emblazoned in my head

I went back to the barkeep
Ordered one more for the road
Then I downed another soldier
"out of service" number stowed

I'd laugh on this tomorrow
If I made it through this night
I was truly "out of service"
I need help to find the light.
Abby Carpenter Sep 2016
The first glass was smiles,
He’d tell us that he loved us
Or that we made him proud
Warm glow from the fire reflected the sloshing contents of his drink on the walls
A blurred dance of celestial lines and shapes.
We took in his light like the inhale of a breath,
Feeling so glad to have earned his praises.

Fifth glass was slurred words
Crawling from the corners of his mouth like a rat escaping a sewer,
The smiles were gone.
We stood still with anxious ticks unfolding before us
Afraid of what would happen if we were to speak
The fire was fading, the dance nearing an end

Glass eight brought anger
Shouts spiraled from his chest, a tornado that we couldn’t cross
Words flew by us,
Glasses flew by us,
Fists flew by us.
Too scared to move, our backs pressed against the wall
We tried our best to disappear
I closed my eyes and held my hands together hoping that the small amount of pressure would be enough to make him lay his hands on someone else that night

Twelfth glass brought sleep.
With his body still we could move again,
His neck crooked to the side, an empty glass in his hand.
No liquid left to reflect.
A sleeping serpent laying in the center of his destruction
Broken glasses and thrown picture frames at his feet,
It became hard to believe he had caused this a moment ago

Now seven years later I find myself at a party
The bass so loud I could feel my body shake,
Red cup in my hand, liquid sloshing with familiarity
Without a pause I am drinking one glass,
Then two,
Then three,
I wonder how I let myself become the thing I fear most like a reverse metamorphosis into my childhood,
And now when I look in the mirror I don’t see me,
I’m stuck looking into his lifeless eyes
And I don’t know how I can change this,
How can I run when the monster resides inside of me?
I don’t know how I can separate myself from him when every time I see a drink I hear my mother’s scream
Blurred images of memory and reality surround me and I am once again too afraid to move
Back pressed against the wall, hands pressed together.
I am my childhood nightmares,
Completing the cycle and making ends meet
Once again I am back in that trailer and I wonder if I ever left
Julia Mae Sep 2016
i knew that i was in love when it broke my heart to see you hurt
i knew that i was in love when it killed me inside to watch you waste away your life
i know that i am in love with you,
because love still remains
despite all of your bad parts
i feel like my ex is an alcoholic and all i could do was sit there and watch him down his potential....
SøułSurvivør Sep 2016
Confessions of a former drug addict

I was an alcoholic
Did drugs into the night
I started at 11
Did anything in sight
'Til my brain was addled
I wasn't very bright
Soul sickness was my problem
Did not know wrong from right
But Jesus healed my spirit
I finally saw the light

I started as a bartender
For my family do's
I catered to their parties
And I began to use
I served up martinis
They could not refuse
Made 'em good and strong
Began with one or two
Soon I became drunk
And started to abuse

Then I did white crosses
Marijuana trees
I did angel dust
Also known as ***
No ******* or ******
But I did LSD
Discovered yellow jackets
And drank peyote tea
I couldn't ever get enough
And that was all for me
At 14 years old
It was catastrophe
Then I found religion
Known as Scientology
It was total *******
But I finally broke free!

I went for years not drinking
Had no acid trips
I loved a natural high
And no drug passed my lips
But life has twists and turns
Much pain and great hardship
I had to run away
Just took a couple sips
Embarked upon a journey
On substance abuse ships

I finally found the needle
******. *******.
I preferred the uppers
Manic highs obtained
I found I could not get away
And so my soul was stained

Then I started smoking it
I liked that best of all
It was like the peak of bliss
That high I still recall
But with every High
There's always a hard fall

I tried Scientology
The SRF and more
But my soul was very sick
Rotten to the core
I was finally Shipwrecked
On a hostile shore
I tried AA and Rehab
But they could not restore
Beaten down to nothing
I was finally floored

Then I met my Jesus
And I was so inclined
To go to church 3 times a week
And the Spirit shined
Gave water to my thirsty soul
My very bones aligned
He restored my body
And He restored my mind
When I finally broke free
Of the religious grind
No matter how the roads will turn
How they wend and wind
I have seen the valley
Mountains I have climbed
Now I know within my soul
His Mercy I will find

And so Jesus saved me
It happened overnight
I woke up a different person
With the strength to fight
I have new eyes to see now
He's restored my sight
No longer in deep Darkness

I have seen the light!*


SoulSurvivor
(C) 9/3/2016
Drugs are not the answer. Any drug. And cutting can be a drug too! It is foolishness to think you can "just say no". I tried and tried to no avail to do that. Without Jesus's help I was totally bereft. I tried every treatment program in the book. Nothing helped me. Especially not religion. I now have a relationship with Jesus Christ. I talk to him everyday. Sometimes even when I'm angry and hurt with him. I tell him so. I have a very difficult life. But I'm not using or drinking. And I have joy beyond anything I've ever experienced! Yes I have my bad days. But my bad days now are better than any good day that I had on drugs. I did almost anything to get those horrible shackles. But now Jesus has broken them off of me... I'm finally FREE!!!

I haven't been on the site and I apologize to everyone for not responding to their commentary. And I haven't been reading. I've just been extremely busy. Thank you for understanding.

I love and pray for you all!

♡ Catherine

-
Sarah Michelle Jul 2016
The universe is suede and black pepper--
a subtle aroma like coffee in a cafe. It's accompanied by
clean laundry air-drying a few miles away. But when
preoccupied with dancing like a blur,
it smells like a drunk. Wine is spilled on the laundry.
A party consumes the land.
The seasoning is mixed into a soup that will never be eaten,
because everyone is too busy
enjoying themselves too much.
The universe's leather shoes are kicked to the wings.
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