Nina Simone, occupying ears singing about bed and dressers.
Sparsely populated
young couple
Interrupted by saying amusements.
Only two stops
I know where to get off

I knew to mind the gap
I'm a responsible citizen
Voter with a valid railcard
Only two stops
Purchased a ticket
Only two stops
I can not throw up in that time

I can not clear my system of over-priced beer
A niche in the market
Exploited in the name of money Making let's just raise them
let's charge extortionate rates for an autoimmune disease

Paying to support a normal drinking culture embedded into the narrative
Growing by in the western world Listening to Nina Simone
Only one stop now you'd never know what life would be like

Without loud pop charts entertaining a few leaving the others yearning the return of ABBA when times were simpler and people cared about Eurovision and illegal music was your own

“Tickets please”
He seems awfully jolly for a late night shit-shift on Arriva Trains Wales
Who's making him work and why's he So goddamn happy about it
Real extra effort! Soul sapping in my opinion
Last stop gotta get off.
Madison 3d
Staying still
I try to drain
Every last
Little drop.
Tilting back, I
Grip the neck but
Don't break it, God forbid
I'm in no shape to clean up a mess
Though I'm an expert at making them,
I tell you what, I hate the television, all
those shiny happy people like in that
song I don't know the words to, but it's
obviously true, watching these shiny
happy lives with all of these beautiful
people who are probably ugly on the
inside, just like me, going home to sit
in their expensive new recliners and
grip the neck but don't break it, don't
make a mess that you can't clean up
drain every last drop even if you don't
really want it, 'cause it used to make
you feel much better, and now it's just
routine, like brushing your teeth and
trying to sleep and telling old friends
that you're fine, fine, just tired, so very
tired and I'm trying to stare through the
television to see these stupid phonies at
home in their own chairs, drinking from
a bottle like this one as if it might save
their sorry lives, like I'm trying to do
right now, tilting it back for just one
more drop, dammit there is no more
and I'm not done drinking but the neck
is slipping from my hands and I'm trying
to drink it down, suck it up when I let go
of the neck and drop it and there is a mess
for me to clean up, I tell you what, all that
broken glass and those elusive little drops
that could've made everything so much better,
could've fixed me but oh well, guess I can't
watch TV anymore, 'cause I've got a mess to
try to clean up right now, yes siree, guess
that even the shiny happy people have to
suck it up and fix it every now and then
just like me and you and everyone else.
My first attempt at shape poetry. Probably messed up a bit, but oh well.
Drink until I give up
Drink until I die
I've done my share
I've tried to save
But now I say goodbye
Never happen
To anyone
Alcohol
Diuretic
Cure?
Think
Before sleep drink a lot of water, never suffer again!
Dia dhuit Aug 10
Burn your skin. Burn your throat  
With a cup of gin,  
Don't pretend that you prevent  
A red glow searing in.  

In your soul no control,  
Through the skin and through the vein,  
The edge of pain can drown it all,  
And gin cuts the pain.  

Cold as blade, then searing hot,  
The words so soft and nice:  
A carefree home, no lighting rod,  
Before you struck it twice

Burn your soul
Because the wounds on the outsides
Are unlike the ones on the inside:
They will always heal.
I  made the original poem better
ANu Aug 7
Swimming in Shadows
swarming in from my soul

Talking to thieves that
taunt us to trust.

Drinking down danger
denying death's desire

Forgetting full-well I'm
floating in fire

Ignoring iconoclastic images inked in my eyes

Hoping hypnosis helps
heal humankind

Dangerous dance
done dozens of days

Easiest entry, eternal enslavement; extracorporeal existence engaged.
Love me some alliteration
Jasmine Reid Aug 7
i'm too young to be this sad,
i'm too young to feel this hatred towards
my face
my body
my mind
myself.

I thought that I found a new high that kept me off the ground that revealed a toxic ocean that drowned me beneath a voice, and a missing sensation, a buzz, a laugh ... and a hug.
I thought that someone had offered me a helping hand after this slump I was rocking back and forth in,

but now I'm second guessing me, because I despise me, and what I have become accustomed to creating and destroying.

Be Careful How You Talk To Someone Like Me.

i'm too young to be soaking myself in this waterfall of thoughts that i keep thinking like shots to my gullet.

i'm too young to be remembering the past and feeling depressed once I catch a whiff of a smell that you were heavily coated in, and I think back to before now and then I feel so dead inside with the past spark I had in that desirable, beautiful life I once sort to be my future.

i'm too young to feel dead
i can't tell the others.
M David Jul 31
Here I lie, the sun sinks. It knows.
As the bottle empties, the darkness grows
And I can only hope that my vision is fading for the final time
Because the only other option I see is to be what you wanted me to be,
But you'll never be mine
Why am I your effigy?
You burn, you mock, you curse at me;
You tell me who I’m supposed to be,
But instead, I’m just your effigy.

Rip my skin, and scream and shout,
And tear all of my stuffing out.
Then whine, and cry, and moan, and pout,
Then beat me blue, and scream and shout.

Pin me up, and pierce my heart,
Then rip all of my limbs apart.
Blame me again, and then you’ll start,
To bruise my lungs and pierce my heart.

Punish me each time you drink;
After all, I’m only me.
Your daughter? No, it’s clear to see,
That I am just your effigy.
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