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Dexter Portalis Apr 2015
I was a ****** to the taste of alcohol for 18 years until the day I lost it to you
My first drink was a mix between reality and denial
This glass consumed the toxins from this relationship that I fell addictive too
I guess that makes you a double shot of ***
No, I guess that makes you alcohol poisoning
Because it felt as though you broke into my liquor cabinet and wrote your name on each bottle
Just to remind me why I am drinking in the first place
You shattered those empty bottles against my heart until I bled our memories
I guess that was your way of breaking the bad news
You used each shard to pierce my ribs
Becuase you never wanted to see us as one
Each shot of Tequila reminds me just how our relationship tasted
Sweet when drunk, but bitter when sober
Your name ran marathons down my esophagus anytime I found myself swallowing the sharp cracks and dents from this Crown
A puddle of Crown sat stagnant at the bottom of my stomach
Normally, Brown is the only thing that sparks a fire in my throat
But your attitude was more flammable than a full bottle of Everclear
And not even Bacardi 151 burns as bad as the feeling you left on my lips
I yearned for the nights where it was just me, you, and Hennessey
But now I spend my 2 am nights in the deepest of conversation with Jim and Jack
But each sip brings me closer to the bottom
Reminding me how we hit rock bottom
We hit rock bottom when you drove this relationship straight into a brick wall
You allowed our love to ride in the passenger unbuckled
So I guess that makes you a murderer
Because you killed everything we had
And now that you’re gone I subconsciously drink slowly
I drive slow
Hoping reality won't hit me so hard
I was hoping to eventually find you when I swallowed the last drop
Searching for the paradise I tried to give us while downing this Long Island
But instead I was brought back to the realization that you and alcohol go hand and hand
Both giving me the best feeling one night
Then leaving me numb
With the same emptiness I felt before I picked up this bottle
And the last thing I want
Is to wake up tomorrow morning
With the remnants of your taste still sitting on the tip of my tongue
You are my hangover
Sydney Marie Apr 2015
i changed from liquid to powder,
Now that you're gone?


powder was to much of a memory

Cheers.
Ottar Apr 2015
Morning smelled like sixteen cups of coffee,
but that is what it took for you to get through the day,
your brother and your sister are doing fine,
as i am still pariah, must be a flaw in my design,

Evening smelled like cigarettes, as the beer you drank smoked,
driving you home late-night was the best part, then it finally became
legal when I got my license, your other brother's ghost stills sits
in the back seat, he didn't have the heart to tell you he died.

Noon on weekends was bottles of beer in a pitcher,
we (you) had to drink them all because it was *****
and waste to pour the beer back.
These are not the memories of a happy son.  My dad past away several years ago, some stuff keeps coming up, hard man to love, easy man to hate.
Is it too much to ask
For you to put down the flask?
Is it too much to say
You're throwing your life away?
I guess it doesn't matter, your mind is made
I cant stop you or the alcohol rain
this poem is for all those who don't try at all to give up a bad addiction, not for those who try and fail, i salute those who try and fail
Winter Ace Apr 2015
Smoke this bowl
Get high
Be happy
Take a shot
Get drunk
Be happy
Being happy is the life goal
But seems an unreachable
So yet again waste the sorrows away
At the expense of your liver
Smoke this bowl
Get higher
Try to be happy
Take this shot
Get wasted
Try to be happy
No longer are you healthy
And people are worried
Your slowly dying
But people will never understand
So smoke this bowl
Get the highest
Give up and don't be happy
So take this shot
Get sloppy drunk and blackout
Give up and don't be happy
Just give up the chase for happiness
Cause when you finally find it
Your dead.
As I watch Whats around me i reliaze I'll never be happy
Collin Daniel Mar 2015
breathe in deep,
{deep breaths will help you cope}
chew gum,
a diet coke and a cigarette in the afternoon,
the carbonation burns your throat
{thank god}
another cigarette after work,
another cup of coffee on the road
{black, with two sugars}
park the car,
go inside,
do laundry,
do the dishes,
do something
{distraction is key}

look in the mirror,
tousle your hair,
you look
{normal?}
there are no external warning signs,
{not that you've exhibited, at least}
this deception you're living every day,
has become the norm for you
{who am i?}

{but he doesn't look like an alcoholic}

silent pain,
no one can hear your cries for help.
{are you, perhaps, too prideful to look like an alcoholic?}
you still wake up for work,
eat breakfast,
go to church,
but your faith is no longer in God,
the blood of your God represented in a chalice of wine,
passed through the hands of the faithful followers,
{moderation is key, isn't that what they told you?}
pass the cup back to the holy man before he sees
the look in your eyes,
begging for more,
{one more drink}
{please}

it only matters if you show the warning signs,
as if this addiction
{dare i say, disease?}
could fit into a pamphlet,
neatly folded,
creased edges,
glossy photographs,
all smiles,
1-800 number in the big font
{this is your life, and it fits on a single sheet of paper}

{no one can help you but yourself, and you're not doing so well}
idk.
I want to get drunk one last time
Just to know what I would say
Intoxicated words come out so much easier
Than trying it the sober way
I want to tell him I love him
I want to tell the truth
I want to feel like everything is acceptable
I want to talk to you
I want an excuse to come clean
About everything I have felt
From love to hate
to anger to lust
to that time I wanted to **** myself
I want to share things I am too scared to share
I want to hold him tight
I want to thank you for breaking my heart
I want to share incredibly sad things in the dead of the night
I want to be brave
I want to talk a lot
I want someone to listen
And not just laugh it off
I want to get drunk
So I can be who I truly am
But alcohol is bad
And I am clean
So I will filter these thoughts for now
They will only hurt you as much as you let them.

And when you want to tear your veins out from frustration,

You must remember to channel that anger into forgiveness.

But don't forget,

They will never love you as much as they love their fix.
Limping through loneliness
Existing in a reality that is wholly mine
Living only for death
Following the beam just outside humankind
Answering to no one
Knowing you wouldn't answer my call
Dying to live
Dying to escape from it all
Gasping for breath
Pushing a life rigid steel and cold
Pray for answers
Resenting God for putting me on hold
Mumbling to the four winds
Passing cars invite salvation
Plodding ever aimlessly
Resisting my suicidal ideation
Stroking yellowed beard
Sweating inside layers stained and rotten
Drinking pain away
Realizing I'm simply, sadly forgotten
Anna Skinner Feb 2015
Life through bloodshot eyes
where lovers and needles
intertwine
into railway veins on tile floors
where hands curl around the glass
swan necks
of everlasting empty bottles,
victims of
a red wine lullaby
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