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When you giggled through the telephone
Telling me how you just ****** some coke dealer
And i’d never see you again
it was a beer bottle to my head
You wore hubris like a **** wears hublot
Everyone seemed to know
All about your misery
But you
To you
Your tears were salt for your tongue
Your sighs were air from your lungs
When you whimpered through the telephone
Telling me how you just ****** some coke dealer
And you never want to see him again
It was a beer bottle to my head
I never was too
fond of coke ******
But to see your newfound acceptance
Of your own true nature
Was a King
Reduced to kneeling
Was a Lion
Left to observation
Payton 4d
You were a drug to me, babe.
      You weren't the medicinal kind either.
                                          You weren't just a painkiller.
You weren't an antidepressant.
                                                     You weren't a Xanax.
                                                        You weren't ******.
You weren't even the good kind of drug.

                    You weren't ****** or **** or ecstasy.
You were the kind of drug that
                                           messed around with my heart and left my brain feeling clouded.
You were the kind of drug that left me confused and
                                                                               feeling worse than before I took you.
But I did.
Again and
again.
I told myself I would
break this vicious cycle of unscrewing your cap and
                                                                   hating myself for it afterwards.
That I wouldn't draw back the plunger and
                                                          force you into my veins anymore.
But I didn't.
Again and
again.

I told myself you
                                                would be the death of me.

Every high you gave me left me feeling
                                                                          lost in the clouds.

I might as well have been
                                    six feet deep.
This poem was written in 2016.
Suffering

                    in silence

                                        is the world's

                                                        ­          most addictive

                                                               ­                                  substance.


        pills, drinks, syringes, lines... are just the Tools of Suffering
                for people whose prime preoccupation has become
                                   self-imposed silent suffering.

but Yoouu

                     are NOT on
  
                                                 that crap!
                          

                                                    So
        ­                                            Sis!
                                                    Stop!
      ­                                              Suffering!
                                                    Soundlessly!­
I message from myself to myself. I've never been an addict but I have sat in bad situations, too hopeless to Heroine myself out. Self, let's NOT do that again!
Ephraim 7d
Picture galleries of motion
beamed against orbital screens
jump from side to side.

Tethered to groping slobs
fast-food fed flesh spills like slush
under the *** crack
of a sleeping ramshackle booth
a flickering grey bulb
advertising escalator rides
at the rear
of a carnival for stiffs.

Gimme the Fun house.

Along this pass,
there shuffle I
treadmill somnambulant
stuck between why and why not
my donated skin, patched
worn past expiration
toss a softball
swing a hammer
shoot a clown in the mouth
skipping around fuchsia puddles of
puked up cotton candy and beer
riding the highchair
a baby belly full of popcorn.

Eddy drops a neon mannequin
strums his black flamingo strung with steamed tripe,
shoplifted
Dim Sum Sundays
sweats custard ****
opens his mouth to sing
exhales moths and hummingbirds...
fighting to the death over what's left
of caramelized nuts
spilled from my guts

A link left undone.
Wandering though the amusement park on shrooms
Catherine Feb 18
Inhaling yellow
Smoke rushes through our veins.
You lay your body on ember ground next to mine;
Rolling over our eyes till speckles of ecstasy fill our vision.

I tilt my head back and look at you: Smooth rich coffee.    
A decadent sculpted chest carved from Michelangelo centuries ago,
Your gleaming skin reflecting music.

Giggling through heaving lungs of fog,
We joke about your cold fingers writing cursive on my thighs:  
A laborer’s hand gripping clouds.  

You look at me and see pearly cream:
Resonant curls sprawled across the floor like my melting limbs,
Ready for you to turn me into red wine.

A ***** of heat hits another bowl
And smoke rises through the vents
To dance on your bonny blush lips.

You think I'm fragile
With my lace stockings and butterfly wing lids,
You could rip through my tissue coating.

We breathe in smog.
The air between our bones escapes: pupils dilate,
Flashes of bliss sparkling colors surround us till that is all we see.  

Our souls, laying on the spinning floor,
Tearing the fabric from our bones
Till all is left is smoke and sweat.
Diesel Feb 14
Blunts and problems
moon smoke by the window air

night autos bustling

ash **** falls
away to my street.
Inevitable Feb 6
AA
“don’t water down my love.
drink me straight, no chaser”

sorry, I don’t drink.
Amber Feb 5
I am an overthinker
and overfeeler, over lover, over needer.
I would flood you, or drown your respectable standoffishness.
I don’t get over things, but I get under them well like the weather, I’d love you and you’d soak me through, you couldn’t handle me even if you wanted to.
Jim Feb 5
Drugs never felt so good
as when they're covering pain
They're the umbrella put up
to keep out the rain

Sometimes it's nice, but right now
I don't want to get wet
So, pass the bottle, spark a joint,
and roll another cigarette
Theanm Ankh Feb 5
My Dearest Molly Anne,
I hope you are now satisfied
With the sinking bags under my eyes and
The empty gap between my thighs, I hope
You know I can no longer sleep
Without you to rock me through the slow-rolling lake,
And sing your song of a thousand sheep.
You've started throwing
Thick red waves into my sink and
Messed with my ability to think and
Darling, you pull me
Under miles and miles of freezing sea
And you take and you take,
Never satisfied.
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