You are lying in bed,
Listening to the gentle whistle of passing cars,
And the roar of a passing train.

You bite your lip,
Because that is all you can hear.

A month ago, the sounds of the city outside
Would be accompanied by the screams and shouts
Of the two people downstairs
That brought you up.

Sometimes they forgot dinner time.
Or that you hadn’t been bathed in three days.
And all they’d do at night
Was fight.

Insult after insult,
Tears and a piercing smash.
And you’d lay awake and wonder
What you’d find in pieces the next morning.

As much as you’d squeeze your eyes shut,
And bury your face in the pillow,
You couldn’t help but be lulled to sleep
By the turbulence below.

It was your familiarity.
And sometimes,
Familiarity comes in the cruellest forms.

And now
There is silence.

You can’t hear
Your Father chugging alcohol.
Silently sobbing
Under the stark, white kitchen light.

It takes two to fight.
And now there is only one.
And now you can’t sleep.
Because there is nothing familiar about this at all.
This one is slightly less abstract. Also, I love messing around with second person, it involves the reader more! :D
I believe in angels,
Their wings of feathers white.
They glow almost golden,
In the morning light.

It's such a relief,
To see the halos on their heads.
Because no one looking at such a thing
Could ever wish that they were dead.

The rays, when they hit you,
It reminds you why you're here.
They put a pillow under your head
And wipe away your tears.

I believe in angels,
They come to me at night.
They sit by me while I rock myself,
And hold onto the bottle tight.

Their voices are only whispers,
Takes my breath away to hear.
I try to curl up on their shoulders,
But they always disappear.
all that i can do now is lay here and feel all of the hurt
and there is no way to escape it except to sleep
and i am laying here wishing that the sun would go away and that time would stop so i can lay here forever in the dark
a moment where i don't need to wake up and force myself to exist
the hurt gets worse
it gets worse
home alone once again and my bed is becoming too lonely where i can't even lay in it either

and you, where are you?
you are out and you are barely alive
and you're doing drugs and you're drinking yourself black
and everyone around you thinks that you're just having fun
when i know you drink because alcohol is your disease and you have to feed it even when you don't want to
you are sad
and you aren't here or happy
but none of them see
except for me

so i can't lay here
in peace
wondering what you are doing or if you are okay
and it shouldn't matter but it does more than anything
because you aren't wondering if i am okay

your lips are on the bottles tonight
and not on mine
and that alone is enough to destroy someone
because i love you
and your alcohol

it does not love you.
Bloem 7d
You stand there, fresh and expectating
tempting and defiant
and there you will stay
It's me who has to take the first step (as usual)

I've been thinking lately
isn't our relationship a bit toxic?
I come to you, looking for relief
but as well as I know you got under my skin
I know you are not right for me

Like a sweet poison
you are destroying me
slowly burning me from the inside
taking away my life...

And yet also my pain.
When I'm with you
I feel like the best version of myself
Fun, relaxed, confident. Free...
Even my friends seem to like me more.

Before you touch my lips again
I stop, look at you and try to think
there's no use: you have numbed all of my senses
and I have arrived to the same old conclusion

I'm drowning.
You are the lifesaver
and the ocean at the same time.
Still I kiss you.
Because I'd rather having you killing me
than at having you at all.

- from an alcoholic
janja Mar 13
i realized:
i was not addicted to you,
i was intoxicated by the thought
of who you should have been

and in that moment
it came to me
your charm was potent
as though it was whiskey

you could ruin lives
just as alcohol ruined mine
you were way too nice
and you became the reason why

i drank all the pain away
trying to make sense of it all
my heart burst into flames
knowing that i took a hard fall
On that day my soul grew drunk
The cooked curiosity craving
The passion never slaving
I crave the soused, sick spirit

Instead I uncovered the affinity
The vehemence smiled
What could there be more purely piled?
I crave the temptress, thirsty thing

Suddenly, I heard some feeling
My ambition, I could not awaken
While I pondered, bibulous and forsaken
I crave the tippling, touched target
How long has it been?
The world has been hazy,
my life, a mother to crazy,
so much so, my only escape is solitude and a pen

Small scripts of literature,
written nicely in fine print,
the words speaking in glints,
as they shine upon the ceiling

All was perfect and fine,
it was as if God was calling,
the letters, sprawling,
emitting the smell of wine

A sweet scent, it was,
blurring my smell,
enhancing my sight,

Though as soon as it had started, it was over,
no more words on the walls,
no more letters down the halls,
it was dark once again

And as I glance upon the book,
words upon words are blurred,
letters upon letters, deterred,
and thus my changed outlook
for some
time; relative.

relative to
what they do.

for me
I see
past time,
through, until it
all comes together.

In that moment.

what is going on
when am i
Abby Jo Mar 2
She took another sip of her fine feathered drink
I don't think this is a learned behavior
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree
Blank stares following her body sways
Making mountains out of molehills
I take an attempt to persuade her to address the issue
Only leaves a temporary result to get us off her back
The weight on her back transfers to mine
All eyes on me to intervene again
Though my shell is hard, my inside is not
campbell Feb 25
I forget about it most of the time
But then I hear a door slam
Or a glass break
And I'm thrown back into the tidal wave
To make it back to shore
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