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Months ago I awoke
to an almighty hypnopompic brain-zap
provoked by dreams of lisdexamphetamine-laced cereal.
Forceful, shocking, agonizing; strange to have felt this
when I lack any acquaintance with Vyvanse, and
when I am clean of residuals. That a dream
should cause real pain, such reaction
in my being, I wonder how
my brain contoured
the experience.

Weeks ago I grappled
with a prolonged tension headache
so I administered paracetamol, ibuprofen/codeine,
And buprenorphine/naloxone. Those opioids
provoked strange daydreams, to countenance the many idioms
I've grokked over.

I used to think my superpower was depression,
I'd go around seeking pain
because nothing else would sooth me; and with each pang
I came a little closer, chasing it
like a true addict, savoring my damage,

Exalting in my lonely conscience.

When I awoke the opiates were leaving my body
so I lay in their dark waves of intemperate sensation
among what thoughts etch onto the inside of my skull
and found myself driving with a concussion
towards a home for misanthropes.
Andrew Rueter Feb 2021
Once I'm no longer awake
I'm put into dire straits
by my mind state
lying to make
me crying great
until I find a gate
to my one true fate.

My mind puts me in high and hung spots
with murderous guys and subplots
or both my eyes forming blood clots
the maze of my mind must get unclogged
leading me towards the one solve
retreating to what I know best
retreating to drugs
I come down off the eagle's nest
and onto the rug
where I crawl like a slug
from the high flying bugs
who want to eat my insides
and only exist in mind.

My brain gives me visions
of the **** I used to live in
making me want to give in
to the syringe's incisions
trapped on a crashing plane
I find a needle
to silence my thrashing brain
I stab the steel
screaming this isn't real
but that's just how it feels
after countless drug deals
it's all my brain reveals.

My mind gives me an option:
to face it
or to run
I can't embrace it
like it's the sun
and I'm the one
Gatling gun
spinning spun
until the chore is done
and the war is won
so I can score my dub
and get nightmare numb.

Once I find bliss sedated
the terror will have dissipated
but when I awake this is hated
bringing back the mist that faded
and all the chaos it created.

I wake up in a cold sweat
ready to face the day
I don't know how cold it gets
but I bet it's here to stay.
neth jones Aug 2020
all of this
    is addled
all of this is tamed
    behind clothed eyes...

Persists a sable seascape
            flotsam is cerebrum
   vast
a featureless osmotic cathedral
  distant of all
a sense deposed vault
        of the heavens muggy other

I am formation
   the information
         and I am blip within

a wink
Attention!
   notice from the euphoria
a gloss eye like obsidian
   perched
   alter praised pedestal
   lustcheivous spire
   with a height for a sky burial
   limpetted with devilish bloats

fractured
then it actions
                 lighthouse blinks ;
warm claps of welcome dishonesty
drum pats
              of a restorative oblivion
                                             escalate

in the other place
my bodies face
                   plates a smile
my body
      a slack slap of meat
         on a ***** clothes heap
my bodies head
                the vices lapsed child

back in the gourdular cavern the bloats loosen
and slip down spire into the sable conducting liquid
Sara Kellie Oct 2019
Her saturate beauty
in violet black light.
The narcotic consent
some Saturday plight.
Colours are bleeding
a vivid dream night.
Lysergic Acid Diethylamide,
Right?

A sleep pattern paisley
purple and green.
Faceless adversaries
heard, yet unseen.
A motionless panic,
unable to run.
Contorted, curled fingers,
now, isn't this fun.
The ups and downs of an
LSD ******.
while luxuriating in the boughs aching
to imbibe solar raiment golden this summer like
february twenty first two thousand and eighteen
when old man took a mandatory brake

from mister sun spilling forth
unseasonably balmy temperatures
equated from this human drake
swallowed hard taking

respite delighting, holistically
lolling (nar gagging) obliviously par
taking paradise magical optical pulsations,
a desperate need to succor dehydration

that found me relinquishing
a coveted reading nook and cranny,
this explanation not "FAKE"

excuse withholding appeasing,
an unrelenting paroxysm
watering parched palette
**** ceded to abend
imagination immersion

linkedin radiant nirvana basking (like a robin)
while feeling spell bound by this warm weather
unseasonably tropic teaser came to an end
drew the analogy how indomitable

joie de vivre kneading love intend
ding, sans partaking draught found wealth
between bounded pages doth mend
moe so than any medication

(akin to placing a wager sparring rivals)
desire for on par,
when body needs replenishment of fluids

thus...deferring self
for healthy pleasant liquid to slake
in an effort to curtail parched mouth
felt as if being scraped

by a lab bot tummy sized rake
thence entire corporeal being
didst shimmy and shake
analogous within mine

so many dozen square feet parameters
thee earth didst quake.
thence upon gulping sweet pineapple juice
(to evade dole drums)
a poem yours truly decided to make.
mythie Dec 2017
Addiction.
It's a filthy word that taints your tongue.
I'm not a normal addict.
I'm not addicted to beer, or to regular drugs.

The only drug that fulfils my desires.
Is you.

You are my drug.
You fill my head with morphine.
You take away my pain.
But when I wake up in the morning I feel sick.

I take you every night.
You've helped me in ways you don't even know about.
Even though I can't swallow you whole.
I can break you and take you piece by piece.

No matter how I devour you.
You always help me.
I taste the bitterness on my tongue.
But a cool sensation spreads to my head.

Being in love is a powerful thing.
Addictive?
Yes.
But you?

You're a chemical.
You make up my bright side.
You make up my best days.
You make me feel numb when I bleed.

I was never one for drugs.
But when it comes to love.
I dove in head first.
saranade Nov 2016
The barrier of poison and ****
                    You're better than us
                   A metal chassis of rust
                                           Anonymous.
This and that and jist and just
                     An abyss full of fuss
                                   No love or lust
                                            Anonymous.
Cease to speak or discuss
                    A might or a must
                         The empty pie crust
                                             Anonymous.
Preference to throw or ******
                       Detest and disgust
                         To cry or get crushed
                                             Anonymous.
You are defined by your choices,
Your choices define you,
Pray thee tell what narc you choose?

Everyone has something they lose themselves in,
Some habit, regime, or routine. ****** if you don't
but ******* if you do. Tell me what narc you choose?

Pray thee spill, or did this narc chose you;
Who feels narcosis calling,
Narcotic longing?
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