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The last time
I was having fun,
I was not sober enough
to know what I did.
I cannot see the end in front of me?



Something about two buckets of soil...


Go ...now,

How does the Seer work?

Do You





Why are my skinned eyes?

...crows, crows, crows, crows

i wonder if you ever drank
because you missed me

a poem i wrote awhile ago
misha 6d
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
esti Nov 4
You are my drug
I am addicted to you
The more I have
The more I need
No more sober
I became a drunken lover
Blake Nov 2
Years have strayed my sensation,
My flame of contentment flickering away,
As my days and nights are spent,
searching for some longing intensity.

Why cant satisfaction caress me anymore?
Cheap wine and neon lights become my serenity,
Shading the truth that I've completely

Who am I right now?
My body is lethally sinful,
Deceiving my whole world,
That I'm still here

I've been to a manifold of mosh pits,
But I never really left my first,
I lost myself in a mosh pit

I can't return.
Online Definition: Moshing or slamdancing is a style of dance in which participants push or slam into each other, typically performed in "aggressive" live music. Moshing usually happens in the center of the crowd, generally closer to the stage, in an area called the "pit". It is intended to be energetic and full of body contact.
Ace Antonio Nov 1
Drunk in love
I called out your name
Drunk in love
I yelled “You’re my favorite song to sing.”
Post-It #4
Gracie Nov 1
He remembers the lights dancing around in his vision.
He remembers the hot, sticky air clinging to his lungs.
He remembers the pounding of the bass ricocheting through his brain.

But that's all.

I remember the way he held me close like I was his most prized possession.
I remember his hand gripped on my waist, protecting me from everything.
I remember dancing with his arms wrapped around me, enveloping me into a safe haven.

But I guess that's what happens when you're in a lying state.
1st November 2018
Kyra Nov 1
“My dad was a mean drunk.” She whispered, eye set dead on the night sky. “I love him,” she paused, “but he was a mean drunk.”

From the side, he could only glimpse the torment in her eyes as she fought the demons on her mind.

Erik McKee Oct 28
Faces blur
Like radio tower lights fuzzily blinking on the horizon
Flashes of red, orange and green
Fading to the chocolate brown of the night, her eyes in the dimming light.

The words, "I love you" drifting through the swirling dimness,
Her hair playing upon the milky moons of her cheeks
Her eyes flicker and become closer, closer.
Again, closer

My nose taps hers, the cheap wine making me sway to and fro,
The wonderful scent washes over me: Mint and lavender,
Wine on the breath, the tinge of bitter sweetness.
     "I love you"
     "I love you, too"  

Her tied hair falls, like the cherry brown leaves of winter
Onto her freckled neck, her moony face outlined
In the dark chocolate of her hair.  
     "I love you"

I feel the surge of want building in my chest
I sway forward, steadying myself on the soft carpeted floor  
My heart's drumming
A shock of static, when flesh meets flesh

I shudder, as I'm carried into the Fall rain
The frigid cold bites at my nose and lips, numbing them
Her face, blinking merrily, becoming further and further out on the horizon
I fall into bed

The birds are chirping and my head hurts
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