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inside the surreptitious
facilities
they're conducting quite disturbing
activities

were the greater public to know  
what was going on at these
places
they'd certainly be wearing
very worried
faces

keeping the people in
the pitch of
dark
being the custom of the chemical
and bio-weapons
lark  

some nations are presently developing
a stockpile of
capacity
that maybe used on a population
with the intent of
hostility
Haruharu Jun 2020
Blinded by disease I lost sight of you.

Your words spoken by the voice of my demon.

I felt your love, though the intentions got twisted.

Your touch, familiar yet foreign.

I'm losing it again, reality.

My mind, a place of dark whispers.
Kamilla Jun 2020
I Plutonium, and you Cyanide
Both poisonous at touch
Yet, we each longed for a taste
I dreamt deadly dreams,
Of sweet Cyanide,
Bubbling up my skin
Rising up towards my neck
And my only thought was,
How pleasant
And you
You would speak highly of Plutonium
Admiring it’s properties
Knowledgeable of the damage it could cause
But, not aware enough to care
Eventually, we both met the same demise
Choked out,
Plutonium and Cyanide
Christian C Apr 2020
A brain chemically imbalanced.

How could taking two little white pills every morning
slowly but surely resolve eight years of major depression
ameliorate symptoms that strangle the mind and spirit,
destroying self-worth, competency, basic functionality.

Despite a set-back of a month of unstable, barely restrained
suicidal thoughts, whole-heartedly consuming every minute
of conscious thought and shattering already severely fragmented
sleep, the only repose from the onslaught of endless thoughts
each one affirming deservance and supplying means to an end.

The vile depression, mind-warping, heart-marring, shape-shifting,
perspective-rearranging, adapting to every new environment,
clawing its nightmare-grip further into my chest day after day,
haunting me even in its remission: the depression was sinister.

Body and brain scarred and healing, starved synapses react,
a regiment of medicine, taxing-thought, and long-scarce love,
but indisputably vital: taking two little white pills every morning
slowly but surely resolves eight years of major depression.

A brain chemically balanced.
"At last"
Poetic T Mar 2020
If love is a chemical imbalance, I'll always be dizzy for you
N Mar 2020
In the morning,
alone,
I plant a pill
on my tongue,
and it blooms
like a chemical kiss

In the afternoon,
I wash my face and
wounds with blood

At midnight,
the rain pours
on my pillow,
but I don’t weep

Every night,
I sleep in the burning house,
but cannot feel its warmth
Nicholas Feb 2020
****** all my life
I want the drugs
pump all the love
strike to my vein
I’ll die in vain
that is my pain
stuck to my lane
born with the rain
nothing to gain
till I met Jane
now I feel sane.
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