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Hopeless Outlet Aug 2018
You provided all the serotonin I needed
To say I had become dependant on you,
was an understatement.
Now its back to pills and lesser things
night time visits with regrets and memories
I think it explains itself.
Sovit Pokhrel May 2018
A world of thumbs.
A world of indexes.
We are the virtually enlightened generation.

up & down we scroll,
in search of company.
Facebook our friend !
We are the virtually enlightened generation.

Right we swipe to match,
Left are just left.
Internet our hope for love.
We are the virtually enlightened generation.

All the knowledge of the world,
Just a few taps away.
Google the Truth !
We are the virtually enlightened generation.

A world of thumbs.
A world of indexes.
We are the virtually enlightened generation.
technology has rooted itself in our system.
SangAndTranen Mar 2018
Oh mama oh mama
Feeding blood into my veins
Pouring water down my throat
Squeezing tears from my eyes.

Oh mama oh mama
Breathing air into my lungs
Freeing my blocked airway
Of the food that got stuck.

Spoonful spoonful
Sitting me up
Injecting saliva
And pumping my heart.

Mama oh mama
She is my clockwork
If she stops so will I
So wind me up agian
What is this? Idek...
sofia Feb 2018
i fear that when i love
it is far to much like a vine.
always longing to cling
and unable to grow alone
feeding off the sap of another
deteriorating any of my host trees
competing for their light

heavily vine laden trees grow more slowly
produce fewer seeds
less fruit
and due to their deteriorative effects on trees
most people seem to advocate the removal of vines.

i fear that when i love it is far too parasitic.
a poem about loving with dependant personality disorder
shiv Feb 2018
she has made herself so dependant on others
that she does not know if she can stand alone.
Angel Apr 2017
I go to the washroom to freshen up
The bar is loud
I smell something familiar
Smells like you
It smells like you
I don't want to lose you
I'm sorry
I'm ******, I know
We're fcked
We know
Greenie Mar 2016
i am:
fall off the bone, tenderized,
dry. Caked mud falling from the mass.
God forsake me. The way in which a love clouds my nostrils and my mind will mesh shut at each new instance of the molecules O and H forming the stuff of my body, makes me faint.
I am now. Heartbeats tick unwillingly. I am yes.
Kiss me and I'm yours, I'm -fall into his arms, princess, you who have the world at your beck and call- , casual, I am innoculation.
innoculation:  a historical method for the prevention of smallpox by deliberate introduction of its pustules into the skin
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
There’s an ugly little pinch at the back of my ear,
What did I say exactly, she’s gone for good, I fear.
After the *****, the stagger, the cab,
I found myself on the couch, adding up the tab.

Flashbacks with nightmares of nasty words,
How could I say that to her! I’m no expert with girls.
The beer and the spirits owe me no favours
And when all’s said, they’re all the same flavour.

The flavour is bitterness, regret and despair,
Fuel for the morning after and pulling out hair,
Out of one’s own head for being so thoughtless
Am I pushing myself to a life that’s loveless?

So I’ll say “Never again” and push for the weekend.
But throughout the week, my resolve becomes weakened.
Until Thursday, I’ll give in and go for “a couple”.
Sick of pints by Friday, I’ll go on the doubles.

So again comes Sunday, she’s still with me.
Her pillow is wet and smudged, my throat is dry.
I can’t lose the memory of that pathetic cry.
I did it again, I let the drink win.

But it’s Sunday so I’ll say “Never Again”
Drinking used to be fun

— The End —