Writing Synonymous with a drug Miming the story in my head Does not take the edge Off. No, I must physically take a swig Sling the pen on the paper See the words in their truest form Word-***** on the page Drunk with laughter, tears and rage High on prose People And places I must create Or I'll die Just one more sentence Maybe two And then I'll find my way In this bed I'll stay This will be the last time I write at 3am ... I promise...
Intoxicated, With my ego inflated Lights out, I'm faded.
My thoughts are clouded, A blurry vision What a lonely season.
I don't know why they say "It's better to have loved and lost, Than to have never loved at all."
All these emotions come at a cost, The writing was always on the wall; Long before I dropped the ball.
It was all more than I knew, After all the chances I blew I can't even remember to forget you.
People don't ever wanna be lonely; even when they are happily intoxicated they pine for the one(s) they miss. Love is a mystery, but people also want a certified mind-blowing love they can drink dial to!
The betrayal You’ll never see it coming And it all started with laughter, Conversations, games and A bottle with no trace of taste Undetected, I swallowed the lot And I remember the smirk faces As I down each droplet of what looked to be innocent soda And my mind had lost its way But found it back to remember...
This part, where you were Kneeling over my numb body and a feeling of pain As you push yourself up against me And that’s when I felt cold.
I froze With my eyes wide open My mind blank with no thought My body in a state of shock And my eyes pooling with water As all the strength in me drained I couldn’t believe it, You never asked.
My tongue forgot how to speak My voice didn’t exist And my muscles had no life As you moan under your breath In repeated motion And your body is sprinting To reach the finish.
For months, I've laid on the same couch Every single day doing nothing but Crunched up in shame Feeling guilty and bad for myself Like I did something wrong Hid my tears from the people that pass me Crying from the trauma And every time I look at that spot On the couch I once laid with all that shame, I can see the print my body left—a dent of my crunched up body, cushions wet with tears And I’ll remember it.
You were my friend And I thought you would protect me But instead you scarred me And now I trust no one.
And to you, I was no longer a person.
i trusted you to protect me but instead you took something from me