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Blackenedfigs Dec 2020
The local convenience store dealers lean on glass windows with ****** pupils scanning the parking lot for any takers. I pump my gas on station four and spy from afar. Don’t make eye contact or that means you’re interested. No buyers yet. What do you suppose is on the menu for today? Judging from the amount of zombies I’ve seen pushing stolen shopping carts a block away from here, I’d say smack. Tar. Black. ******. Whatever they call it where you’re from. Welfare bodies withered down to just flesh hanging from bone, wandering around aimlessly for their next fix. I’ve only ever tried it once; I was curious and sad and it was there—in Violet’s hand and then in my lungs. Do you think my mother would cry out in those disgusting sobs of snot and heaves of not-being-able-to-breathe-tears if she knew? Do you think my sister would look at me with that glare of judgmental disapproval because yet again, here’s an example of why I’m the family ****-up? Do you think my father would smack me upside the head and call me a *******? Probably. And do you think my third and sixth grade teachers who told me I should one day do something with my writing would be gasping in disappointment? Definitely. The gas pump clicks off. A potential customer staggers across asphalt to meet his makers and I am no better than he is at this very moment.
A lesson in prose poems.
sankavi Jul 2020
I do not like you
I do not love you
I am addicted to you

no not like "you're so cute I want to be with you forever" kind of sweet innocent addiction
no, not at all

******, you are like ****** to me

when I am with you I feel warm, fuzzy, euphoric.
without, I am throwing up, dizzy, unable to get myself out of bed

I get over you, I don't see you for days, weeks, months

I'm clean.

though I'm clean now, you are still always on my mind.

you are not good for me
you are killing me
yet still
I need you so bad

James Jul 2020
Endless space
suspended in cold tension
A bohemian mystery
A stiffening silence
Followed by deaths rattle
An endless supply of emptiness
An Anaemic masquerade
A premature *******
Constantly lost in the confusion
Angelic trumpets serenade me with soft songs
Marking the end of the romance
Maniacal Escape Jul 2020
Silly goose. Hide and beek.
Play the herion, strong and free.
Expensive easy life.
Such a good ride though.
Michael R Burch Jun 2020
****** or Heroine?
by Michael R. Burch

(for mothers battling addiction)

serve the Addiction;
worship the Beast;
feed the foul Pythons
your flesh, their fair feast ...

or rise up, resist
the huge many-headed hydra;
for the sake of your Loved Ones
decapitate medusa.

Keywords/Tags: drugs, addiction, user, ******, needle, tracks, marks, pain, despair, recovery
Thomas W Case Feb 2020
I put the spike
in and push it a
little; withdraw, and there
it is.
That beautiful
rose bloom flash.
Push the plunger
and I 'm back in Eden.
Naked and no shame.
And in that moment
it's better than
*** and God and Heaven,
and chocolate.
I'm lost in a
storybook blue
sky, and I don't want
to be found.
Nothing matters, but the
sublime substance pumping
through my
veins that make me
Icarus flying into
the sun until my
wings melt and I
fall back to earth
and do it all again.
"All that glitters isn't gold"
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