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Kashish Bhasin Jun 2016
They thought I needed rehab,
Said this addiction of mine was bad.
Little did they know,
this drug kept me from losing myself.
- K.B.
"You're the drug that keeps me from dying"
PFL Jun 2016
****** onto this gilded stage,
constructed upon envy, jealousy and hate.
Where past pains, for a moment, are immune and fall away.
We cannot run from, what we break, the each and everyone we betray,
Myself, you, any honor and truth, again, aware, I am of silent berate.
  
Vexed to explain this, to you, myself, let alone the adorning world.
  Fear churns and flags the thoughts in my head, as I unfurl
The recant, of my notions, as not one’s I’d say.
In each aftermath, my feelings awaken, hauntingly every day.
I don a mask, a guise, hoping this pain will not recognize my kind,
Do not trust me, my actions, for there is no respect I’d stand behind.
My public life, a choreography of spun lies
for the “greater good of others,” to imbue.
Trust, I have none, even as I stand on the red carpet beside you.
  
This life, one not deserving any award.
It’s been calculated, guarded, for I am quite weak,
Meek and vulnerable as the words written for me to say,
the coincidence holds no allure.
Just more salve to cover my emotional sores,
Toiled and blistered by the years of holding
onto these self inflicted wounds upon my soul.
Only a select few see these images of me as they unfold,
Personal scars map the non-tellings,
my legacy's truth such intricately woven deceitful tapestry
I too, do not believe, yet again, I must face,
I am not the master of another’s fathoming
the vexatious me, they soon will behold.
Melanie Kate Jun 2016
There is an aching in my being,
When I see the look in your eyes.
If you were conscious,
there could be
so much more joy here.

But we're not liberated
by youth and hope.
You're ******* on ideas,
and I'm tied to my heart.
You can't see past my eyes,
The chambers I keep hidden.

My heart drums to the rhythm
Of your lonely, hurting desires.
You're craving love.
My heart's only drug:
Falling always for the broken one.

But I can't fix you.
I am not your exception.
Though I feel everything all at once,
with emotions not at all small,
I cannot bring comfort to your inner war.
MKD 2016 (c)
Jellyfish Jun 2016
When the caffiene fades
So does my smile
But that'll never change
At least not for a while.
That first drink I took I
Regret
It was only a few shots but I
Got ****** off my head
Got so drunk so I could forget
Ecstasy so powerful, a craving so
Raw
Who knew I could break the law?
At 13 this happened
Right when most worried about
Nothing
I stole of my family to fund
Now I live right, but my childhood is
Gone
James M Vines May 2016
Cutting wood and sanding  it smooth. Cutting the holes and fitting it together. Each piece must be precise and give just a little. Staining the outside and inside of the box and putting on a glossy coat of varnish. Fitting the padding into the box and making sure the lid closes just right. All of the steps necessary to build a coffin for my friend who used drugs too much.
john shai May 2016
Sequestered in my home
Ingested by a poem
A whale swallowed me whole
Thank you sweet obsession

As the winds carry the words
Across the vast endless ocean
I hope a heart will bleed
As it is a poisonous potion

A drug so powerful
It could change the world
But its side effects still
too painful to behold
gray rain May 2016
Sometimes I don't feel like writing
I just want to listen.
The moments
were I ponder
about who I am
and write it down
in a poetic format
because it's a really addictive drug
and I'm already hooked.
Coming back.
returning.
Over
and over
again.
Like it's the only way to feel.
To imagine what feelings are.
To imagine love or hurt.
Is this a curse or karma getting back at me.
Striking.
Kicking.
Stabbing.
Over
and over.
Evermore.
The love that you give
Is just like a drug
I need a fix
Give me a hug

There is no help
No way to detox
Somebody help me
I'm hooked on a fox

You have a strong hold
One I can't kick
Every time I try
I start to feel sick

There is no needle
To stick in my vein
Just a simple kiss
Or I'll go insane

No pill I could take
To give me that feeling
Anytime without you
My senses start reeling

Nothing I could smoke
To get me that high
If I'm without you
I surely would die
B Young May 2016
Pocket full of clacking around benzodiazepines
Xanax, Klonopin, and ******.
Am I late for class? Am I late for work?
Am I late for my own life? (truth)  
Is this really any normal kind of respite or relaxation?
Chemistry really has come a long way to introduce
us to induced relaxation(?) pills.
My Mr. Dr. says it should help with my anxiety,
but it only seems to cloud me in my depravity:
I steal, I lie, and I wake up naked in unknown
bedrooms in unknown cities with unknown
women. Who…did they steal my wallet?
And where the **** are my car keys?
Better yet, where in Allah’s name is my car?
OH! Lord Jesus Christ OH! God of the Jews I cry out,
Forgive me (lie) for I hath sinned.

I suddenly want to do every drug (truth)
ever made, you name it, I’ll try it,
just this once, of course. I don’t have an
addictive personality (lie)
The Dr. says it is OK if I take 4mg of Xanax a day (truth),
hence it must be safe (lie), right?  A Dr. can’t lie, can he?
Wait! Where am I again? And, what are we doing here?

Oh…that’s right, we are kids going nowhere (truth), how
silly of me to forget. If this is Prozac Nation,
then I am the ****** State. My governor is the late
William Burroughs (lie) and my deputy is the late Kurt Cobain (lie).
We are not in this for the fame (lie), a state run by the deceased.
So, how dare you point a finger at me in blame.
This is Drug Nation, America-home of the sedated and land of the overdose.
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