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bess Dec 2017
When my friends think about drinking they see parties, and wild nights, and crazy hangovers

And when I tell them I never plan on letting a sip of alcohol touch my lips, they're scandalized

Because they don't understand

How could they ever?

When I think of drinking, I think of my mom passed out underneath our Christmas tree

Or my dad swerving down side streets with the smell of whiskey wafting off of him like smoke from a campfire

I see my childhood that came crashing down in front of my eyes

I see something that they will never understand
bess Oct 2017
one
Be gentle, because they don’t know any better. I know that you’re the child, and I know that you’re scared, and I know that it isn’t your job to be gentile or kind but I also know that being gentile is easier than being angry.

two
Make sure to give up your heart and soul first. Take your feeling and put them into a box, and shove that box far away because God knows that they’ll only heart them anyways.

three
Read well and often. Send your mind into a new, completely different world for a little while. You need it. We all need it.

four
Learn how to be distant. Learn how to love from afar. Being close will only hurt more in the long run.

five
The most important part of loving an alcoholic is loving you first. You are not your parent’s mistakes. You are not what caused them to break so harshly that they turned to a bottle rather than a book, a drink rather than their daughter.

I learned how to love an alcoholic before I learned to love myself. And to this day, I’m still learning.
bess Oct 2017
I grew up drowning in whiskey.

I grew up quickly.

I grew up alone in my thoughts.

And now when I look in the mirror and see myself,

I know that I hardly grew up at all.
saranade Aug 2017
A complicated concept
Dumbed-down
For even a weak mind
To easily interpret
It's more than just
"understanding" they get
These weak minds,
Seemingly, flock to it.
It's anonymous
SøułSurvivør Jun 2016
you stand in line
for liquid bread
with your thin dime

newspaper matress
you lick your lips
a cardboard box
will.be your crypt

sad
forsaken
so forlorn
your façade is *****
tattered
worn

the gold was stolen
from your vaults
passersby see only faults

the picket fence
around your heath
is as broken
as your teeth

the many choices
you have made
have sunk you to
an early grave

you're self-abusive
destruction bent

your temple is a

TENEMENT
**


SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/17/2016
You can lend people a hand.
But they have to want to take it.
Cody Haag Dec 2015
Tendrils of black embrace my vision,
Like branches splintering through;
My eyes blink rapidly in response,
Yet they remain no matter what I do.

My hands tear at my face's canvas,
Which is long-stained with tears;
Recently, blood has intermingled with them,
A result of my fears.

I'm wiping away the moisture,
So they won't see my pain.
But my skin is coming off in my hands,
Like a thick, ****** rain.

It's impossible to hide it longer,
It has consumed me so;
The next person to glance at me,
Will instantly know.
hiroki Jul 2014
it's kinda ******
you don't really have a choice
you know like AA
billiondays May 2014
2 A.M. is for the poets
who can't sleep because
their minds are alive
with words for someone
who's not there

2 A.M. is for the alcoholics,
drinking themselves to amnesia
to forget someone who left

2 A.M. is not for the lovers,
asleep in each other's arms.
It is for the lonely,
the ones who are in love
with the loved but are
not loved in return.

– billiondays

— The End —