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emma jane Jan 2022
it was early, really early on that cliff.
cool air, blue light
our new friend had to go (a busy woman in no rush).
we rolled a joint for her journey home.

our minds were cheeks flushed red and rosy but that was fading now. the sun that had risen just for us
swept slowly over the rest of this place.
began to wonder if she ever cared at all for her private audience. maybe.
but, probably not?

get in the car.
watch morning commuters swarm the PCH.
it all felt a little funny;
how this was the world, and the people here are so sad.
we giggled. a satirical sort of clarity began to settle.

this isn’t really it.
is it?
well, coffee should help.

music was still so beautiful but
now i knew that we could be the only ones hearing it this way.
i hoped that was not true.
pupils shrinking,
the world still rolling slowly but, with a sudden edge.

oh no.
i hope not.
i turned towards the driver’s seat.
there, with thick-rimmed sunglasses,
those hands holding a freshly lit cigarette out the window,
you were; exactly the same.
Yazad Tafti Mar 2021
a portrait painted in my mind

watching you in the living room with another living being

i've had ******* comedowns which killed me a bit more,

but this comedown off of you in my expectations

this room suddenly doesn't make me feel like living anymore

sink in to the couch and never come out ( i may just be soft) lel
Keebo Nov 2020
I woke up on the floor
From a party the night before  
Feeling like a train wreck, looking like a mess
Trying to piece together last night’s events
But my memory’s **** & my fishnet tee is missing
So I roll up a cig, grab my coat and leave
I’m losing count on how many times I do this routine

Walking down the street
Going through the texts I sent when you were asleep
Telling you what drugs I’ve been on
What I genuinely think, I know I’m a nihilist
But I know I can also change in your company
It’s funny how the heart speaks
When ******* & MDMA is in the  bloodstreams

Finally, I’m home
My mental state is melting like a Dali painting
So I crawl into bed for a good rest
Letting my body dissociate at the sight of 2PM
Some people say this is a waste of a day
But I didn’t think about that yesterday
Now I scream “**** MY LIFE” loudly from the inside
Part 2 of “I Wanna Live Inside Slash’s Hat”
Roro Aug 2020
Swimming with stars, a cosmic stream
Saturn’s no longer a distant dream
Titan in one hand, the other waving to Ganymede
Ideas are rushing and fluttering
Like dandelion seeds in the wind, they’re slippering
Melodic strings then crashing drums
A chaotic orchestra, now here they come...
Melting shadowy figures from the dead
Delusions from the collapsed parts of my head
A simple reminder to stop glamorizing mania, **** can get scary dangerous real quick.
Aleah Jan 2020
I know that I don’t matter,
Live life like I’m unfazed,
I hear the constant chatter,
Echoing and I am crazed,
Invisibility has been my shelter,
But now it pulls me away,
These feelings begin to swelter,
This time I wanted to stay.
J J Aug 2019
I don't leave my house much
and I keep to myself, dysthymia at my peak
    These days.
Blood in the sink after brushing my teeth for the first time in weeks
  and feeling all the more disgusted for it,although
I know it a mini victory in itself,enough of a sign for hope--
better than any ******* self-help book could suggest--
The laughing jittering chitchat all-being lovely paranoia stage has passed
And now i feel the hangover.
Luckily,the eureka's glued on too
And the reflection is easier to inspect now--
you know that Hemmingway quote:
Write drunk,edit sober? Like that,but over the coarse of a lifetime.
And how boring sober life is after the highest peak,but on the same note,
I've flushed the drugs to deter temptation,to better myself--
When i was bad they made me okay,
When i was great they made me even better,the world even closer...
But they're a ruining process. I've learnt to love the blossoming passion flower of my mind,
Although i want so to hate it currently.
I know i am,i know the universe is,and if you're reading this then you too are;
And that's all that needs to matter sometimes.

Through silence,through recluse,through art,through pen,through therapy,through time,through honesty,through dream,through woe,through laughter,through scream, through power,through weakness embraced,through fire,through love,
Through a madness unhinged but always aware
Of self and all surrounding;
You do what you can to get by,but most importantly,you do what you can to better yourself.

You don't have to be perfect everyday,
you dont have to be perfect most days,
But if you're trying for anything at all,you're braver than you could be,and not yet as strong as you should be
And that is a  very   very    good inspiration
I'm not doing the best at the moment but writing is one of the things keeping me going strong. I thought I'd rant and rave about the process of finding inspiration when you least want it. First line borrowed...well,full on nicked, from Soko.
Heavy Hearted Aug 2018
I sit here and wonder if you're reading this-
If curiousity overcame you again recently, or not.
Its that time
Where im too exhausted to sleep
And all there is, is the music

And I wonder if you're reading this-
Will you have been part of this moment?
Whenever for you this moment might be.

Connected now, I feel it through-
You infinitely odd ball - creature
Thank you for all you normally do- I acknowledge it through this poem's feature:
So of my art unto,
I will become the teacher
to share with you creations new
as haines floats from the speaker.
And so I wonder if you're reading this
Tap Head May 2017
Loud noises. Bright colours.
Rush and gush of comers and goers.
The western world is a bit
too much for me today.

Because last night,
I saw the stars through shaky eyes,
felt the cold air against my numb face
and told a stranger what you mean to me.  

I sat on the water’s edge for hours,
my bare feet hanging off the side.
I saw the stars. I saw your eyes.
And felt ******* great.
Banana Jul 2016
I crave a different state of mind,
Make me more honest, make me connect with people make me more open, smart and kind.

I don't crave the come down,
Make me feel tired, make me sleep but have bad dreams, make me feel distant, make my body ache and head pound.

So when the money comes around like it always does I'm constantly torn between up and down, a battle of is, isn't and was.
Poetic T Dec 2015
They called it the shallow graves, the place where death plays
Spin the broken needle. it snows in July under here.

Under the bridge they huddle in their cardboard palaces ,
psychedelic moments followed by the falling in to oblivions grasp.

They slept in their depthless tombs, blankets hiding that moment
Of alone time where that last hit was the one that hit home.

I watch as so many lives that once were, are now gone, this
Place of broken syringes and dreams. Sleeping in hollow mounds.
Addicts under a bridge there blankets are their shallow graves when overdosing RIP another life gone due to drugs
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