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Seen many turns, many fires burnt,
Along the way, a few were intense.
Intense enough to fulfill the futile desires.

But, This one! Intoxicating.

Giving me the pleasure of being the Master,
To tweak up the flame,
To tweak up the intensity,
Intensity so high that it turns into ashes,
All that is uncalled-for.

This one! Indeed Intoxicating.
So much so that I am willing to keep it on forever.

One may call it Sacrificial,
Some may call it Madness,
But for the intoxicated Master,
The fire is meant to be otherworldly,
With a flame that doesn’t see an end.
Tim Deere-Jones Feb 2021
When I: with small words: bent to whisper
Some of her hairs (bronze and electric)
Touched my cheek.
Adrenalin sang: synapses burst into flower
All awareness flared
Just as she turned her eyes to me

Seen from above: they were a deep green well
Where secrets swam,
The green core at the heart of sunset’s backlit breaking wave
Sunlight through summer’s stain glass forest leaves
Greenstone on the beds of mountain streams
Wide pale emeralds set in the strong and lovely bones of face
Whirlpools in which to willingly spin
Mythic green flash of sun drowning in horizon’s sea

Then, leaning,
Still closer to her hair (because I loved the voltage there)
I gave my words
But closeness was a shock that rocked: then paralysed
A near eternal minute: unfolding time was frozen there.
There was a thing like scent: no musks, no florals nor turpines
But it held me tranced
Cocooned by it I swayed upon my feet
Intoxicant beneath the sun
Enveloped in a perfect moment

Then: stunned: I had to walk away
In to the everyday
"passion is akin to intoxication and madness, out of both come creativity
Saulė Dec 2020
I'm gonna drown myself in sorrow
I'm gonna drown myself in fear
So I could feel something tomorrow
So I could free myself from air

In deepest corners of my lungs
The chemicals are always hiding
Intoxicated... but I'm so young
The fear is always oh so blinding

I smoke, I drink, I cry away
I hope one day I'll be ok
Is this reality not up to date
Is it too late to feel okay

In deepest corners of my lungs
The chemicals are always hiding
Intoxicated... but I'm so young
The fear is always oh so blinding
Shower beer
shower beer
my kingdom for a
shower beer

My kingdom is a
shower and a bed
just a shower and a bed
in this podunkshitholenowhere

But I'm suds'n up
while suds'n down
making my frown
UP-side down

Nothing better
nothing aside
from her
peachy little mound
nothing better in this
Desert town

Never astray have I been steered
not by a shower beer
no indeed
no tears have I shed
no siree
no life have I bled
no not me
no ill will have I ever bred

not on account
a shower beer
Dancing music chord
On a Friday night
And sipping classic drugs
An euphoria between the eyes.

Attempted dance missed the legs,
Emptiness and hollow feelings.
The eyes are thin and might be red
Two more sips to do the biddings.

Life is short and no retry,
Anaesthesia to help feel fine
And a reminder for tonight,
That It's a beautiful Friday to be alive.
Janani Arunkumar Jul 2020
Sipping on Hennessy.
dripping with greed.

Every decision I made,
means to mess with me.

Don't need no shots,
Are n't you competent substitute.

You get me high
tripping with jealousy.

My little flask of poison,
why is thou,
so intoxicating?
recent try.
Luna May 2020
Intoxication won't bring solace.

Neither it bring back the person over whom you got intoxicated every single night...
Agatha Prideaux Apr 2020
Liquor bottles and rapt promises
All sometimes mean the same thing for me
At first glance, they seem a little bit too much
To be handled by a mere, innocent minor like me

They say I'm too young to take or drink them
They say only adults can get a taste of them
But of course, I let my curiosity get the best of me
And here I am, sneaking some from the shelf.

Bitter. I unconsciously rejected it
For it was too bitter for me to handle
Manifesto too new, flavour too foul
Sensation incomprehensible, what's yet to come?

I finished half. Half of the bottle.
Internalized half of the emotions thrown
Embedded in between those highfalutin speeches
And I'm only waiting for what's next.

Warmth. It's warm, it's creeping in
Am I letting myself be thawed by their voice?
Or maybe it's just the liquid speaking
As it glides down from my mouth to my throat?

Euphoria. I feel nice. For the first time.
Taking more gulps doesn't feel a bit wrong.
Being succumbed to their words doesn't feel wrong.
It only feels all the more alright.

Tepid. Loaded. Giddy. Fine.
All these are happening all at once
I've been searching for this feeling all my life

I only bought a bottle to try
Only sought a promise to swallow
Is one not enough for my troubled soul?
Is this how much I craved to feel fine?

No matter how many bottles we gulp
No matter how wholeheartedly we trust
When the ethereal high runs out in a bittersweet haze
It's time to clean them all up.

For the empty liquor bottles and empty rapt promises
Will only leave you reeking with its pungent smell
Along with trailing tears on your cheeks
And another throbbing head the next day.
Day 3 of #NaPoWriMo 2020. Funny because the prompt of this one was created months ago---but I only actually wrote it today. Well, I write too many pieces about intoxication.
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