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i remember now.
her eyes were green.
with hints of brown, and crystal ****,
depending on the time of day
and how much she was able to then sell her soul for.
inflation went up and the price went down
and she was worth less.
worthless.
anything for a pipe, though.
anything to feel whole.
Ana S May 2016
Dog in a bush.
Dog lights a smoke.
Dog has long scraggly hair.
Dog sleeping on streets.
Dog scratching her face.
Dog picks at her skin.
Dog lights up again.
Dogs hair is in tangles and messy.
Dogs skin is ashy and broken out.
Dog cries at nights.
Dog wonders how to get her hands on the monster.
Dogs skin is becoming more flawed with every run up with the monster.
Dog hears wispers at night.
Dog still wanders ally ways.
Dog lets people do stuff with her in order to get in contact with the monster.
Sometimes the monster is laced with one of its friends.
The dog never really does pure stuff anymore.
Dog told herself she would never get addicted.
Dog is addicted to the monster.
Crank
Monster
Crystal ****.
Oh yes!
Dog does ****!
And dog loves her ****.
Dog signed a contract with the monster the very first time it enter her system.
Dog has a life long relationship with ****.
Dog ****** up.
Now her life is uncontrollable.
Dog isn't stupid.
The monster controlled her.
Dog was smart loving and sweet.
Monster was controlling addicting and very very
Very
Very
Veryyyyyyy
Persuasive.
Dog holds hands with the monster now.
About a girl who had a run up with the monster
Rob Sandman Apr 2016
"where did all it start to go wrong,
when my doctor told me i didn't have long,
cancer treatments too **** expensive-
wife's in charge and I'm **** retentive,

can't get a job,can't get a loan,
maybe I can figure how to work from home?
My future's like Heisenberg,too uncertain,
provide for my family,before its curtains...

I'm a chemistry teacher and chemistry rules me,
but so many unknown's too easy to fool me,
but how can I do it?can't even guess,
unless,unless,I start to cook ****?

Unless as a teacher I get someone to school me,
I know the principles(principals), just need the tools,see,
I can't tell my wife-can't tell my son,
that my stars burning out like a fading sun,
a trailer park cookout,will it be a mess,
first batch *****!(Jesse sample)total **** success,
but success in this business can lead to death,
p.e. number one,-Heisenberg of ****,

Gotta deal with this ******,name of Tuco,
might shake your hand,cut your throat or shoot you,
I was a 9 to 5 loser-happy teaching chemistry,
now I deal in in death,spreading pain and misery,
My partners a ******,my wife doesn't get-

That I'm like a medical examiner,surrounded by death,
Jesus Jesse you're a pane in my ***,
it's looking clear to me,you're too fond of the glass,
mirror mirror,where's the fairest price for us?,
I've heard of this one guy,name of Gus...
This is a Song/Poem I started about Breaking Bad,
but still haven't finished...
maybe I will now,just have to binge watch the show on Netflix again and figure how to fit it all into another 32 bars or so...
AminieMecho Mar 2016
Long ago
the story began
One ***** in a vein
spun out rhymes
Of the insane

A sweet girl gone
She will not go far
The tip of a needle
Will curse who you are

His hands choked her blue
Voices drove him mad
The addiction won
He lost all he had

Behind bars
he waits for letters
His poems got a few 
So many unsent
Now no place to go
Letters lacking a recipent

She wanted it to pass by quick
The time without him
The last letter she stamped and addressed
She wonders if he got it
Or did her words shatter his reason to live
Is it why his neck was slit

She wants to know if he opened it before committing to suicide

Two blue roses on his grave
Nothing went right
No happily ever after
To end the night

Now which way to go? I sit and ponder
It no longer matters
After all, I'm destined to forever wonder.


The needle left its curse, on and on she goes, reaching no farther than her toes.
Nameless Feb 2016
Cuts on my arms
And a pipe in your hand
...
Which, is worse?
My depression
or
your addiction.
------------------------------------------------------­--------
You have a KID!
Oh, and I'm just a kid...
----------------------------------------------------------­----
You give ME ****,
About MY scars;
While you're doing
   ****, in the next room?
...
Phew,
And I thought I was ready to die...
But you've thrown your ******* life away.
-----------------------------------------------------------­-----
Myrrdin Jan 2016
Someone asked me what it was like doing speed
If you're wondering, it was a lot like love
I loved it the way some people love playing guitar
The way some people love their mothers
The way some people love their God
I used it to express myself, to unleash my creativity
I used it to find solace and comfort, to make me feel all better
To put a bandaid on my scraped knee and tell me to keep trying
I used it so I would have something to believe in
Something better than what I was, something that believed in me too
I loved the way it made me to soar to new heights
I always forgave it when I crashed down to new lows
I loved the way it took my fear away of talking to strangers
I forgave it when I became afraid of people who weren't even there
I loved the way I made love so confidently when I was on it
I forgave it when I had to go to bed with strangers just to afford it
I loved the way it made me love myself again
I forgave it when I couldn't recognize myself anymore
Yes, I think it was a lot like love
Azura Skye Nov 2015
Crystal white, ice cold,
I'm blood hot
Running bold
Mistress sweet calls once again
To quench the fire within my brain

Crystal white, vice hold
My Blood forgot
Ice cold
Mistress heats the only pain
That builds the fire within my brain

Kissed the night, twice old
Blood clots
The cards fold
Mistress cheat pulls on the chain
The funeral pyre within my brain

Pistol fight, price told
Bloodied shot
running cold
terror street screams once again
The voice of ghosts of Mistress slain.
spysgrandson Oct 2015
tufts of grass stand in the yard  
hairy green patches of tenacity
in a field of neglect

half a screen guards
a **** stained door where
someone painted, 214

the pit bull sits behind it
waiting to be fed, and to be
chained again to the stake

where, like any beast bound
by gravity and the grave, he will
make ceaseless circles  

smaller  e a c h  day,  
unwitting sentry to those
two legged creatures
inside

who, with or without
the pit, lie prostrate, in dreamless
bug rich beds    

when they fall
from sleep, they too make circles
bound by stakes and chains…
invisible    

though their pull is felt
and their infernal rattle heard
no matter how far from home
the prisoners of Tulip roam
rewrite from years ago
Cheyenne Sep 2015
Am I the only one?
To yearn for the thrill.
To want the buzz.
To feel the need to soar,
Up so high,
Landing higher then cloud 9.
To want to be surrounded,
Snowy powder,
Smoky rooms,
Liquid courage,
Loud music bumping in my ears.
People become a sea,
Dancing,
bumping,
Grinding.
Morals gone.
Happiness found.
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