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Naeem Dec 2021
Just another self-indulged addict
Addicted to the attention writing brings
So I indulge this hobby that separates me from them
In hopes you'll give me my next fix
And sustain me the days my creativity runs dry
A writers block
An addicts road to recovery

I write to be different
I write for the attention
I write for my addiction.
a poet, an addict, where's the difference?
muteD Dec 2020
do you believe in haunted dreams?
not nightmares
but haunted dreams..
because I do.
and that’s because you haunt mine.
every moment of them.

and you haunt my reality.
every waking second is filled with the need to reminisce.
even when I run your scent just seems to follow.
to escape into any type of solitude would grant my unspoken wish.

so I sleep.

but even then my dreams are tinted with
the feeling of nostalgia.
yet it is not from anything I can recall..
to be missing something I never had at all
is a special kind of hell.
you’ve tainted my dreams
as though you’ve put me under a spell.
and it’s weakened me.
leaving me
screaming upon deaf ears
I wonder if my voice will make it out of this fog
you’ve brought.

everything is clouded with
the abyss of you.

you’ve tinted my dreams
in the color
of you.
drugged me and got me hooked.
now if my dreams aren’t tinted with you,
they’re nothing
but bare black walls.
“ That was insane how you ended it 🤯 from start to finish I was intrigued and steady wanting to read more, although the person was expressing themselves, the vivid imagery you presented through your careful choice and placement of words painted a clear motion picture I could truly get lost in, hella deep and very impressive no bap, you snapped...”
- a response to my poem..
Hanna C S Dec 2019
The kids are high;
Their Liquored lips lifting
To swell with holes in their eyes;
Like black jewels they shine;
Deep pools to let in extra light;
Extra love;
They are hot with an extra warmth
And how it shows;
Glows from within skins
flushed slick and salty.

The kids are high;
And they are sitting in a circle;
They hug one another and stroke each others hair;
They retell their favourite stories;
And confess their kindest compliments with their softest smile
All the while they would swear;
They have never felt so happy;
Or so humanly connected.

The kids are high;
So I guess you should call the police.
Tell them about the risks of delinquents on drugs.
The kids are high;
And they have never been more at peace.
The kids are high;
So they must be a danger.
The kids are high;
And they are truly happy.
The kids are high;
And you hate them for it -
How dare they take pills you didn't prescribe?
The kids are high of their accord.
Do you think they are troubled?
Or do you think they are bored?
The kids are high;
And they are dancing
Dancing with a devil you waltzed with once,
When you too were young,
The kids are high;
And for each step tread
Down your footprint path
You hate them.
The kids are high
And they love you.
The kids are high
Mind the irony.
Empire Nov 2019
I feel ******* drugged
I mean... yeah... I guess I am...
Artificial feelings
Laughing a bit too long...
Missing things...
I’m just... scattered
But I feel okay
I feel better...?
L Jul 2019
You can read them if you open them up. But if you dont take a look then youll never know.
Was i on one when i thought of this title?
ClawedBeauty101 Jan 2019





《▪》 never get under the influence of it's false hope and lies that come straight from hell...
The Vault Dec 2018
I keep running back to you
Like a drug
You keep me in your twisted hands and make me go crazy.
But I keep running back to you
For a fix of what I think is love
My mind is mixed up
I hate you
I love you
But no matter what
You know you have me.
Retro Nov 2018
They told me to stay away.
To stay away from the drugs,
The alcohol, the cigarettes.

But when you force a teen to make adult decisions that have childish effects...

I find myself dealing with the drugs,
The alcohol, the cigarettes.

And the nicotine goes to my head,
The monster controls my body,
The alcohol rushes through my veins.

And I can’t help myself.

Because I’m not scared.
I’m not scared... anymore.
Teens are getting involved with drugs more and more everyday, i’m Not perfect, I’ll admit it, but sometimes stuff gets to you and the pressure hits and your head is like, “YOU GOTTA TRY THIS....” and you give in that one SINGLE time.

I’m sorry.
Silence Screamz Oct 2018
The words I saw the other day on the bathroom stall read
"Glorified Prison"

MMMM, Cognitively thinking
to myself.
"This is my life"

In an instant flashback of
bent memories,
I thought about
the year
it all happened.
My heart started beating rapidly,
my brain collapsing,
My body drenched in sweat.
I was drowning.
Drowning inside a mental pool
and there was no life ring to save me.

I just stood there,
Mummified to the moment.
My eyes were glazed over as if I had glaucoma trying to stare
through a thick London fog.
Everything was disappearing
in front of me.
I saw it though, in my distant memory,
quickly flashing in front of me, like a shooting star across the sky,
then it was gone.

Gone to a place that I never recognized before.
A place that was out of some sort of bad dream.
That place. That brick house. Pitch black outside.
That kind of bad dream, "the worst kind of nightmare
that you can ever imagine"
and I couldn't wake up from it.
Make it go away!!
Please, Make it go Away!!
I am begging you.

His hands suffocating me,
but I could barely feel them
or hardly breathe, none the less.
Breathless in this moment.
I became to numb to my surroundings.
Trapped in my own seclusion
and by my own misdirection.
I was left wondering.

I had no idea what was going on.
Lost inside myself,
with unknown fear,
trapped inside that brick house
of malicious trepidation
and insidious manipulation.
I was being sexually violated
and I didn't know why
nor could I control it.

I was in a poisoned induced
coma of fear.
My mind was twisted
beyond reproach
as he continued his sadistic
and cruel usage of my body.
I was longer a human being,
I was just object for his enjoyment.

Escaping the insanity, I ran!!
Finally free or so I thought.
This mental torture has burdened
me for so long and has taken me down many diluted paths
of mistrust, misguidance
and internal, penalized
I am became lost unto myself.

I have grown to live inside
this Glorified Prison,
with no release date in site.
The torture that I was subjected to,
will never leave me.
So this prison has become solace.
It has also become my hell.
It is where I put on my shoes
and walk without fear but
it is also where I run away
from things.

Many times I begin to tremble when I think of
that nightmare.
It has become a seeded part of me.
It is who I am.
I am a survivor though.
One day I hope to be released
beyond the walls of this
glorified prison,
so I can finally be free.
I was sexually assaulted and relive the moments daily in my thoughts and dreams.  I was drugged at the time but remember coming to when it was happening.
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