Harsha Jun 12
When I was younger I use to ponder
How I would one day prefer to flat line and expire
The most attracted option my forgone war bound mind could muster;  
Was in the event of a global nuclear holocaust
It brought me some well-deserved comfort due to the fact that
  As the residual fall out would inevitably eviscerate me
It shall also decimate everything I hate;
Second viable option was a similar scene straight out of Micheal Bay s Armageddon
Caught in the aftermath of a world killer; a horrific meteor shower
As it would undoubtedly bring about my decease and lay waste to this insufferable biosphere;
Thirdly my personal favourite choice to realize my own demise
Was through a carefully administered heroin overdose I surmise;
Induced in a state of perpetual ecstasy locked in a coma Comfortably numb,
making love then becoming one with oblivion
I think I prefer this choice in contrast to the first two selections
Mainly to avoid all that collateral damage that would directly result in the deaths of a few billion;
But mostly because been lucid awake and sober is an absolute nightmare
Been rooted to a state of utter obliviousness and intoxication are a welcoming pair
And I have reached the point of no return where I no longer care.
Paint in acid
scream into static
through perceptions pallid
with desires archaic and elastic.
It doesn’t really matter
who lies at the other end of the ampersand
smoke and mirror shatter
grinding from glass into sand
yet here we stand
malleable and plastic
and egocentric
hallowed by introspection.
Our shadows long lost in the tide
with the whispers of deviation
I guess, I shouldn’t have lied
but you were my only means of abstraction.
we’re just timelessly out of fashion
we’re recoiling from the passion
that was once instilled
so sweetly sacramental.
thirza May 19
lemon juice smeared on your lips,
throats clenching in thirst—
your sourness is acidic.

triple sec cleansed your tongue,
lips coated in rouge—
your sweetness is artificial.

vodka chugged down your throat,
tongues begging for more—
your bitterness is piercing.

lemon drop ignited a fire in our hearts,
bodies flushed against one another—
your flavor lingers on my skin.

martini glass too small to drink from;
just one more is plenty
so i can dive deeper
into your scarlet stream
and be lost in your touch.

and, of course,
i’m taking another sip.
— because i’m intoxicated in you.
janja Mar 13
i realized:
i was not addicted to you,
i was intoxicated by the thought
of who you should have been

and in that moment
it came to me
your charm was potent
as though it was whiskey

you could ruin lives
just as alcohol ruined mine
you were way too nice
and you became the reason why

i drank all the pain away
trying to make sense of it all
my heart burst into flames
knowing that i took a hard fall
The floor danced
as the sirens,
they beckoned

Sweet words,
a soothing melody
to my out-of-tune mind

What is their hair,
shimmering with droplets,
to me, a white flag

The scent,
the fragrance,
the stench

Of their shampoo,
pulling me under,
until I am choking on their locks

Their eyes, like an anchor,
weighing me down
so I cannot struggle

Instead, I still,
my body, a freeze frame,
my mind, a ravenous tsunami

Grey, static, fuzzy
until my last breath escapes my throat,
and I drown
FrankieM Jan 30
As you sing your heart out
My heart, my mind, this car
Goes 1,000 miles an hour

We pass semi tricks
Heavier than these feelings
I've been trying to drown out the entire night

I lay in my own passenger seat
By you

And the alcohol
And these drugs
Have me feeling every ounce of you

Drip into me
It's amazing
How I could want something so bad when I already have it
Em MacKenzie Nov 2017
I'm on the brink of destruction,
lacking spine and posture.
My soul is facing corruption,
I lost to the dark when I fought her.

Sitting back wanting to sedate,
bound to crack if I have to wait.
Sitting back wanting to sedate,
numbs the pain my heart does create.

I'm one to stay up until the end of time,
only then can I sleep eternally.
Methylphenidate with a spritz of lime,
Alprazolam, my mind is curdling.

Sitting back waiting to sedate,
forget I lack future and lack fate.
Sitting back waiting to sedate,
missing all hours, but mainly eight.

I'm not one for the Earl Grey,
nor Chamomile, or warm milk.
Rambling self conscious; nothing to say,
and nothing to feel except soft silk.

Sitting back needing to sedate,
so I can alter my mind and state.
Sitting back needing to sedate,
I'm death's prey and this is the bait.

I'm on the brink of imploding,
no more room for any emotion.
My brain has started corroding,
when I left my soul to this ocean.

Sitting back wanting to sedate,
but the release is always late.
Sitting back needing to sedate,
there's no choice and no debate.
Zero Nine Nov 2017
Thought I was high
Then, I felt a memory
Thought I was high
Thought I was safe
Then, I felt some emotion

What if I sold my soul for the green of grass?
What if I smoke my ambition in a bowl?
What if I bake the little dough I make?
What if I'm red-eye all day?

Then, I'm a peasant.

What if I send my nightmares away, ablaze?
What if I exchange the pain in my body for body rolls?
What if I buy a ticket to ride, unafraid of eyes?
What if I'm dead all day already?

Then, I'm lifted.
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