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Sara Feb 3
Face down on my friend's bed
I wait for my shoulder
to lose feeling,

Secretly hoping the pain will last a little longer,
while she drives ink into my body
over and over and over.

I hope she isn't too drunk
to make the lines straight,
because I'm tired of hearing my mother say,

"those look like the tattoos my patients get in prison"

a sentiment always met with
an exaggerated eye roll,
and a stronger desire to let my friends get drunk
and stab me with needles
over and over and over.
He lifts the needle
from the old 5th Dimension record

(a person can only listen
to One Less Bell to Answer
so many times)

crawls into their bed
closes his eyes

and for the first time in many many nights,
he allows himself to dream.
Chaos Kidd Dec 2020
As far as I can remember you’ve RAN my life,

From my father and mother and also Ex-wife,

We all have been your worthless slave,

Days we refused are the days we craved,

Desolation and destruction in your wake,

I’ve offered you my useless life to take,

As I fail to get my life on track,

I just shoot bigger loads of twack,

I’m as lost as the orphan boy in the woods,

I’m not remembered for doing much good,

Only wrongs and misplaced hate,

Had me wander into my fate,

I blame them all but not once me,

I blame them all one, two, and three,

So as I pointed out all their flaws,

I became immersed by your powerful jaws,

Your claws are sharp, long and pointy,

So where’s the right path can you please point me?

My direction is sporadic as my thoughts,

I knows there’s this one thing that I’ve been taught,

And that is never show weakness not in this game,

Or you may end up killed by what’s his name,

He burned you badly beyond repair,

Because you tread with little care,

I get that you were naïve,

But in my words you should believe,

I’ve been down this road my whole life through,

I beg that you won’t do these things that I do!,

I had a soul as my Fathers son,

And as my mothers youngest one,

I’ve watched these paths taken lightly,

The scenes I’ve seen aren’t all that sightly,

I’ve been young and as I grow old,

I started to learn to do as I’m told,

For if I hear those words nye,  

Soon I’ll be the one to die!,

Im so lost, alone, and misunderstood,

Sorrily the high I get just isn’t that good!,

Good enough I think inside,

But it could be better if only I tried,

Tears and blood oh I have tasted,

But its nothing to the years I've seemingly wasted!
Written on June 14, 2020 by my dear friend Jordan Ernest. This poem hit too close to home and is to beautifully real to not share with the rest of you.
Safana Sep 2020
For you
to see me,
hills and valleys
oceans and seas
moon and stars
days and nights
water and fire
heaven and earth
must fall asleep
And,
for you to see me
take a tour and pass
through, the narrow
of needle space
Else,
for you
to see me,
close your
eyes and sleep
to dream about
me

Safana & Bamalli 2020
for everyone to see someone
In 2009, The american disaster film "2012" was released.
Preparing for "The End of The World" was easy.

A piece of cardboard at a Red Light.


"2012 The End Is Nigh, What's a dollar?"


We might as well have smiled, given a friendly wave,
honked our horns like we were passing the Freeport Flag Ladies.


In 2012, I was in high school with my first job.

I didn't care that In the twinkling of an eye,

we were gonna hear God's last trumpet.

On Rapture-Eve, I set out "Milk N' Cookies" for the "Left-behind"

I left next mornings outfit on the side of the road as if Angels abducted me ****-*** naked mid-stride

Turns out, the red light never turned green.

The "left-behind" kept breeding

and Hell on earth just kept recruiting

Now it's 2020,

The Freeport Flag Ladies are in Quarantine,

the signs have needles in our eyelids like mechanical spiders,

You can't even turn the news off now,

I pick it up at CVS Like a Controlled substance prescription.

They make you call in once a month to get it refilled.

Some how my amazing wife Amy and I

Not only survived the rapture,
we brought a brand new life into it.

For 10 days we were locked in a hospital

We never looked at the news.

The world melted away as we danced together

Waiting to meet our little miracle.

After Amy was whisked away for intensive surgery
and survived the most unspeakably amazing thing in the world
a nurse eventually grabbed me and asked if I wanted to meet my daughter,
I was guided to a baby table

with knobs, meters, heat lamps,

and on a tiny cushion

in a tiny plastic crib,

My daughter.


Sophia Naomi Mae Coulombe.


wide eyed

staring into my pupils

wiggling

perfect

Now we are home.

No nurses, no IV.

Somehow it feels like the end of the world and all it's chaos
was the best thing that has ever happened to us.

Everything happened exactly when it needed too.


We couldn't have had better timing

if God planned it.
I would love any editing advice! I know this poem is raw and precious, but please feel open to being savage with the red pen!
Michael R Burch Jun 2020
****** or Heroine?
by Michael R. Burch

(for mothers battling addiction)

serve the Addiction;
worship the Beast;
feed the foul Pythons
your flesh, their fair feast ...

or rise up, resist
the huge many-headed hydra;
for the sake of your Loved Ones
decapitate medusa.

Keywords/Tags: drugs, addiction, user, ******, needle, tracks, marks, pain, despair, recovery
anonymous May 2020
I am a seamstress
stitching life together in harmony
creating beauty every place my needle breaches
You are the weaver
you dart in and out of lives
loosely dragging us along
to the knotted finish line
weaver and seamstress met
and you are persuasive
performing the drama
and I believed
seamstress and weaver could create
a masterpiece so fine
to last for all our days
and yet
you have taken your dagger through our greatest tapestry
destroyed what I had birthed
you laugh because you do not know
the seamstress's needle knows no bounds
and your eyes
always too far apart
please give me validation I'm sad... jkjk... unless?
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Loose Knit
by Michael R. Burch

She blesses the needle,
fetches fine red stitches,
criss-crossing, embroidering dreams
in the delicate fabric.

And if her hand jerks and twitches in puppet-like fits,
she tells herself
reality is not as threadbare as it seems ...

that a little more darning may gather loose seams.

She weaves an unraveling tapestry
of fatigue and remorse and pain; ...
only the nervously pecking needle
****** her to motion, again and again.

Published by The Chariton Review, Penumbra, Black Bear Review, and Triplopia. Keywords/Tags: Addiction, needle, veins, stitches, red, blood, ******, dreams, hallucinations, seams, darning, tapestry
Jay Mar 2020
Was I simply a play thing to you?
A means of busy keeping and
Time wasting until
Inevitably
You got who you wanted?
With all the care and hearts
Sunflowers and jellybeans
Dogs and warm safe hugs
Why?
Why.
Why did you play with me
Was I an easy target is that what
It is?
Like a ******* needle
To be pierced once and thrown away
Never to be thought of again
I gave you what you wanted
And you ******* left
Why did you play with me
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