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For every story of addiction
has trauma at the root
-


Thats the usual case anyway.
I'm sorry everyone for not updating as much as I want.
I'm still feeling really unwell...
Hugs everyone
Lyn ***
Haylin 1d
I rip myself apart,
Piece by piece.
I place bits of my heart,
Into your hands.

I tear my soul,
Little by little,
And gift a morsel:
But when will I realize,
You never asked for me,
Or my vulnerability?

Remaining transfixed.
You step on my soul,
***** it,
Bury it,
Beneath soil,
Without a second glance.
No mercy,
Or pity,
In your eyes.
Simply and only,
A slight surprise.
You never asked for my care,
And were never aware,
Of all I invested,
All that manifested,
Beneath my shell,
Deep within my heart.
So why would you mind,
Tearing it apart?
I was sleeping
In the warmth of you
But something cracked soon
It was me who woke up
To find you were
nowhere around
in the cold morning!
Only me holding up
my shattered pieces
all my own!
Heartbreaks are never easy but it definitely teaches you how to fix yourself and be there for your own!
Lotus Oct 9
What I gave
It doesn't matter
What I saw
It doesn't matter
They were insensible
Beasts
And sensibility
In person
What I understood
It's not anymore.
Neither the guilt
Or the hope.
The lesson,
I just want it,
Truthful
Because words slip
Through the cliffs
In a tight
Long
Curve
Peter Balkus Sep 29
She taught me
that after every Winter
there's a Spring.

She taught me
that angels never lose -
they always win.

She taught me
that **** is just an illusion -
it's love which is true.

She taught me
that one plus one is one,
not two.
Eric Babsy Sep 29
This is for when you are down and feeling blue.
Give a heart to heart and time will stand still.
When you need somebody just imagine and they will be there.
No guilt will come to you, no splitting hairs.

For a nitch in time could save your life.
Three days from now you will be free from strife.
To save your life multiply your life and you will be moonstruck.
It is better than any high off of any drug.

Twenty-seven days and they will all ascend to heaven.
With that you never free from eleven.
To all you saints and the lonely hearts help your knowledge grow.
The basic need we all need to know.

Let all be bestowed onto you.
With that knowledge we grew.
It is good to be kind and caring.
Within this is the truth I am bearing.

Can we see each other for who we are?
We should practice this whether here or far.
As the clouds pass over.
We see the blue of the sky, I wish we could forever.

Twenty-four hours goes as the world turns.
The rain falls like ash; which to the skin it burns.
Before the crackling fire we have formed.
At the end of the day another lesson learned.
Lauren M Sep 28
Faintly, faintly, I’m beginning to hear you.
“Teacher” is what I call you, and what you are to me.
“Teach me.” No matter where I may be
my identity will apparently always be
“The Student” and I, like an actor given a role,
play it.

Quietly, a pair of eyes gaze sponge-like
at your catalogue of lessons,
trying to erase the body —
— which is too loud, too needy,
too everything —
and try not to let you be drowned out
by my dreams, my ideas, my expectations.
What are you saying now?

Something about… my own powerlessness?
Not the throngs of swans and the songs of the dawn?
Instead, prolonged wrongs and the dawning sense
that I don’t belong here?

No! No, that can’t be the lesson.
I am too natural, too sky-edged.
I’m too much the daughter of moss,
too akin to the hanging lichen that drapes ghost-like off the trees
and too free, heart up against the sea.
In short, too me.

But this means nothing to you.
I have to go quiet again, stop filling in the blanks
with words and more words. Recalling my role,
I listen for a lesson.

(And this is the first lesson I learn:
“Be Quiet And Listen”)
Isaac Ward Sep 28
If you look out your window-
Don't dare look up to my sky,
Cinders choked the sun to death,
It's a black and smokey night,

Our last trees: you set ablaze,
And the grass, your kindling,
The birds and bees are dwindling,
We're left in this steel maze,

Are the streets and city lights-
Enough to guide you home?
When you choke on cinder, too-
The sun won't be alone,

And when your last fire dies away,
And the ice makes it's return,
And my sun can't shine from the afterlife,
It'll be too late to learn.
Eve Sep 26
To be blessed ,
favored and protected by the environment,
selected and isolated from your social groupings,
To be blessed is to synthesize what truly has meaning in life and self-meditate with the sake of life’s pace.
Before falling asleep, resting, force the mental to remain awake,
processing and breaking apart the information given today,
despite the fact that time wasn’t kind, brief or even prolonged; make it the moral commitment to self-reflect.
Make a correction if your answer is wrong; the fabrication of a scripture,
Make sure, for certain, that all the totaled scores calculate to a certain percentage,
Affirmed, scolded or ruled by another to convey your defined truth as inaccurate, almost there or rarely ample.
Time is allotted, effortless and to be taught a lesson is a blessing,
Space is limited, given and to be bestowed the gift of building is the set up version of a lesson, a shell of a blessing.
Josh G Sep 25
This mountain of ours
Stands viciously before me
I am always climbing
Never getting higher
My grip often slips
And I slide back down
Often I'll find tools
And with them I soar
Though these tools break
Putting me at square one again

This mountain of ours
Claims victims every day
Some hollow out a home
Refusing to climb higher
Others have fallen completely
And have lost their way
There is no easy path
To reach this apex
An eternal struggle
That you must never give up on

This mountain of ours
Some days are easier than others
But those days are few and far between
For this journey is a challenge
And not a single person has it easy
We're all struggling
Though some seem better off
Don't be envious because
You'll never know the difficulties
They faced on this mountain of ours
I wrote this depicting life. Life is like a mountain to me. We are always striving to climb higher but it has its own way of making that difficult for us. Our tools break, our grips slip, or we just lose faith.
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