Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kai Sep 28
I had his trust
Until I didnt
I ****** up and lost his trust
What will happen?
Who knows.
The depression has been worse
Maybe a few cuts
How bout some pills?
How bout smoking?
A couple drinks?
All just to make the pain go away
The thoughts are to much.
Lack of sleep
Lack of food
Lack of emotion.
How about i just grab the blade?
Add some new scars.
Go deeper this time
How about i take some old meds?
Just a few
How about i smoke and drink?
To forget about the pain
To clear my mind.
It seems I cant do anything right
I never will do anything right.
i tried to drink
my feelings away
until i nearly drowned
but their grief,
patient as a vulture,
kept waiting for me
even at the gates
of the afterlife.
this one is about having nowhere to run.
money is sacred to me—
because i never had it.
we borrowed bread
from neighbours
at the end of the month,
waited for donations,
and watched my father
settle his debts
to bar owners
instead of us.

i learnt to sit small
in the corner
with peach juice,
while he ordered
beer and pálinka.
he kept bottles in the pantry,
pretending we couldn’t hear
the corks easing free.

when i left,
i carried eighty pounds
in my pocket,
with a luggage filled with air,
a week’s worth of clothes,
a soft blanket, no duvet.
but a hunger for something
i couldn’t yet name.

it was freedom.
never money.

now, that it’s mine,
it does nothing to me.
it bends, but doesn’t hurt.
i saved, built with it,
learnt to breathe
on my terms.
it comes, and leaves
when it wants.
and that, to me,
is wealth enough.
this one is about looking back at my relationship with money.
ten nights,
my glass held nothing
but water and light.

ten mornings,
i woke to myself
instead of forgetting.

tonight,
my heart spilled open
and the world drank me in.
this one is about the small victories on my sobriety journey.
August 13, 2025.
Márk V Jun 6
Drink your beer, I don’t need that,
I need something else, a bit bigger bottle.
Not the yellowish kind, invisible,
or bitter-smelling drink I want,
I need a red drink, one
as red as raspberries.
Or perhaps blood-colored? Because
blood is life.
Maybe if I drink more,
it will give me life, too.

Ask nicely,
maybe I’ll offer you a cup.
If you can explain its meaning,
the whole bottle is yours, but
break it in half, so we share it.
You understand it like I do, that's why you deserve it.
If it tastes strange, drink it slowly,
if your throat's not used to it, endure it,
you’ll get used to it,
your state of mind will help you.

Maybe it intoxicates, but it gives strength,
right?
The others don’t do that,
otherwise every tavern would be full.
Its effect's eternal,
but helpful.
Its size surpasses the rest,
dominance, like from man.
Were you made by the gods?
Is that why your taste's so special?
neth jones May 19
dismember
us meeting in the long dark bar
made of old wooden doors ******* closed
we nerved about conversation and drank
the gruff dense social den drew in
                grew around us                                      
pushing our minds about like
     the ember remains
                                  of a sotted campfire
ploying mother lens
we shuffled into the other
                      cleaved a little and uncleaved
then  tuning out the winters night
we did together leave
Nick Moore May 23
Too much to drink,
Mind
Is
Scrambled,
Resembling
The surface of an ice rink.

A head of aches,
Restless night makes.

Over and over again,
Says my brain,
Never again.

Song, In a Broken Dream, Python Lee Jackson.
Rain Apr 30
Here I am laying on the floor,
Locked all the doors.
I cut and drank,
The ship already sank.

I’ll do it again,
I feel so **** shaken.
Hurting and numb all over,
It would be worse if I was sober.

When they call me to come down,
I’ll drag myself up and wipe the frown.
Won’t be a difficult child,
To my pain, everyone is blind.
Next page