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So beautiful,
So ****,
So alluring
She may be.
She'll take it all
Even your soul.
And demand ever more.
Until all are gone.
To her you're just one more.
She'll take your money,
Family and friends.
Your very life.
She'll take it all.
And causes only strife.
She'll **** you dry,
And make you wanna cry.
And leave you empty,
And wishing to die.
And might not know,
The reason why.
These merchants of death.
With her they ply.
Filled with only greed,
They'll not notice,
Or even care,
When you die.
There's plenty more,
To take your place.
You were nothing,
But money,
And a face.
Don't trust her smiling face.
So beautiful and ****,
She might seem.
She will rob,
Your self esteem.
And leave you empty,
And alone.
If you're even alive
I have lost too many friends to her.
When you are truly in pain she is a blessed thing. But at the same time she is the most insidious thing on this planet.
Best beware of the poppy in all her forms.
Willow Branche Mar 2022
You were a warm, weighted blanket,
You comforted me when I was alone.
You made me feel safe and well,
You quickly became my home.
Your embrace was warm and welcoming,
But soon became too hot.
I tried to kick you off of me,
I fought with all I’ve got.
Your hold was now too tight,
Sometimes I couldn’t breathe.
I swore I’d never touch you again,
But I’m truth, I couldn’t leave.
You were all I never wanted,
This thing, sewn to my bed,
But I couldn’t ask a soul for help,
So I clung to you instead.
People soon began to worry,
If I was doing alright.
I missed work, events, and meals,
Just to sleep with you at night.
I thought that I could manage you,
That I could pick and choose…
“An evening here, an evening there”
But it’s a game that I would lose.
One night you suffocated me,
Made me sleep for “one last time”.
But someone cut you off of me,
And brought me back to life.
I really thought I loved you,
But I should have known better.
I should have known you’d almost **** me…
I should have bought a sweater.
Goodbye ******. You’ll never have me again.
Traveler Dec 2020
These addictions
My mind says I need
But it’s only what I want
Because I’m bored as can be

Fill this emptiness
My urge is on repeat
Give me some ***, food
alcoholic, drugs
This hunger needs to feed

Who can go without
The rush that they now know
Every time the needle sticks
The world just turns to gold

In between is a living hell
Yet although they don’t seem to mind
They return to the ******* ******
Time after time

And that my friends
Is the condition you’re seeing
When this addictive nature
Hi Jack’s a human being.
Traveler Tim

The truth is
We get addicted to substances  and objects
All because we refuse to grow up
ConnectHook Jul 2020
Opiates are the religion of the masses.
An aphorism for your erudite perusal.
Martin Narrod Oct 2019
Justin I forgive you, won’t you call me, your birthday must be coming soon we haven’t spoken since we moved our family into the desert. I just pray you’re not seeking cotton fever yet again, chasing the dragon, or at the very least eating school buses while falling into ‘H’ before you find yourself in bed drunk again, and on Ambien too. Dead too soon. You’ve always wondered why I didn’t introduce you to Ryan, my other incredibly dear and brotherly friend. Well wonder none more, he’s in a padded room at Mt. Sinai in Lakeview or perhaps Northwestern’s adult care unit, there was talk or at least I imagined he could make it to Lakeside Manor right there East of Foster. So it’s clemency, peace of mind, and something to loosen the edge off your back, something to let you fall, something to set your pain at weightless your mind at I-Don’t-Have-To-Give-A-****-Anymore, my friend where have you been? Where have you taken yourself? Please drag yourself back at least a half-step, reverse your position and engineer an out please. I can’t begin to accept losing both of my brothers to two versions of the same disease.
Andrew Rueter May 2019
Life is meaningless
Life is pointless
Is anyone seeing this
I become avoidant
From annoyance
I slip into a depression
Bringing an obsession
Of not learning lessons
Just getting high every second

I’m ****** in strife
Not living the examined life
Against a canon’s might
Loaded with grams of white
Shooting me high as a kite
So I can ignore my plight
Of having to fight

The murky waters shifted
Into my blood stream they drifted
I was euphoria gifted
Learning to be lifted
I became a hedonistic
Phenom misfit
Talking cryptic
And apocalyptic

I see the haughty led
Talking heads
As the walking dead
Stalking dread
They want me red
But their haunting bled
My arm instead
The only blood I shed
Is from my carnal bed
On the path I tread

A needle goes in
Blood comes out
I live in sin
I live in doubt
Looking for an escape route

I’m a cynical buyer
In a situation dire
Sick and tired
Stuck in fire
Becoming a liar
To get higher

Trust has disappeared
But I am still here
Filled with fear
Not knowing which way to steer
I try to act cavalier
To placate the cattle here
But I live in the saddest sphere
Even though I’m in the stratosphere
I see madness near

I can’t keep it civil
With my head on a swivel
Wearing the addict’s sigil
Track marks mean no acquittal
So subterfuge is pivotal
All communication is digital
When I have to hide my visual

I have no grace
I’m given no mercy
Every decision I face
Ultimately hurts me
Making me *****
From what I’m observing
And for what I’m deserving
Because of truth I’m deserting
To stay on the line I’ve been skirting
With death who’s been flirting

All I want is to binge
On the swamp in my syringe
On society’s fringe
Because once the ****** goes in
I can see heaven in hell
By ignoring the smell
Of where I dwell
In a euphoric shell

When all that remains
Is more of the same
I pray to the lord for rain
To wash my spirit away
So I can be a hero slain
Rather than singing a loser’s refrain
You pass these people everyday
They’re roadkill in the street
By the time you look in your rear view mirror
The vultures are back to eat
Gnawing their bones to defeat
Until they’re stripped of all meat
And their skin is baked in the heat
Their eyes melt staring into the sun
Once their blood is diluted by fun
So they can no longer be the one
Transmitting Jesus’ love

A lot of people
Say religion is evil
But I don’t need to go to a steeple
Or take a bunch of college classes
To learn opiates are the ****** of the masses
Amoy Mar 2019
In the ***** fields the red plant glows
Shining bright row by rows
Highlighting our opiates blight
Soldier by soldier I save tonight
Ease their pain do it right
For they may stray towards the light
Josh G Jan 2019
Gracefully sliding down your silver skin
It leaves a waste of blackness
That zig zags like a corn maze
A flame sets you into motion
Giving off your sought after euphoria
Our bond is one not saught after
Yet its a connection I yearned for
Nights spent on the bathroom floor
With desperation and a fiendish itch
You were there as my comfort
With tears in my eyes and a stain on my pride
We floated off into a temporary retreat
Wrote this looking back to a time in my life where I felt the full weight of the world on my shoulders. The weight became unbearable and I searched for every way out I could find. The door I opened was one of immense pain to myself and the ones I cared about. I'm proud of the man I've become now.
Jonathan Surname Aug 2018
I live a breath's away from the oldest river in the world.
While I don't take much of nature in it is awe inspiring,
to be sure.
I live within the crook of the oldest mountains in our history.
Not the tallest,
nor the proudest,
but for now these ranges are growing senile within their misery.

The riverrun through it and exposes rock perhaps a billion years old.
Our oral histories, passed on legends,
scary stories and mountaineer folklore accounts for
such a small passage of time.
We built a bridge once.
It was at one time the longest single-span arch in the world.
Now it's the fourth.
Top five, and that's something for which I am proud.
The oldest river, in the world.
The oldest mountains, in the world.
The highest fatal overdose rate, in the States.

There is a beauty to be had here. Somewhat backwards, but
growing up our water was clear.
It's now choked from coal slurry.
The brain drain of young adults leaving, in much hurry,
hurts us as the ones that remain become grey and blurry.
We are living in a permanent winter and we have high roads,
that wind and curve. Dangerous when icy. veins filled with
heavy loads and nodding verve.
I live a breath's away from the oldest river in the entire world.
I can't touch Roman ruins with my hands, or
sift through the Dead Sea and float on salt above sand.
I can't touch the hill where Jesus may have died,
I don't know what it feels like to hold history as pride.
But our trees even when green have a dusty coal darkened sheen.
Summer is overgrowth from the Springtime rains.
The highest fatal overdose rate in the entire United States.

Where once we built bridges to close in the gap of travel.
We unzip black bags with rigs and object with obvious cavil.
Our industry is old, the world is moving on from coal.
For better, to be sure, but in the meantime we grow cold.
Not from lack of heat, we can boil our spoons just fine.
But we need a replacement from shaft or the mountaintop mine.
Let us worry about beauty again,
let us treat addiction with correction instead of levying it as sin.
Remove the pantomiming politician speak
of addicts or the sick as being weak.

Let's find ourselves again, West Virginia. You're the only home I've known.
Childhood summertimes sat beneath canopies of caterpillar home,
the happy baby butterflies eating leaves so more sun could shone.
Walking sticks used to play with me in my yard,
and at nighttime I'd still be outside mouth agape at the stars.
Evening meant lightning bugs and I'd capture a few in the cup of my hands.
There was a whimsy to how nature responded to us,
how bees would bumble and land,
on the dandelions whose seeds I'd spread as I blew on their white
polyp heads.
Maybe it's nostalgia and my memories are tinted rosy.
The smell of wood stoves burning in winter,
the crispness of autumn breezes felt cozy.
There was a trust held in communities, or maybe I was naïve.
Some of my friends made a choice and moved.
Others among us took a more permanent leave.
My brother, too. He himself got in a lot of trouble.
Over the cotton swab boiled to a bubble.
He died when I was young so maybe everybody is right.
It's all sentimentality and a lot of lonely nights.
But does the past being ****** up make the worsening now fine?

I live a breath's away from the oldest river and mountain range.
I live with the highest fatal overdose rate in the United States.
there's much debate as to whether the New River or the Appalachian/Blue Ridge/Allegheny mountains are, in fact, the oldest.
there is, however, no debate as to whether or not West Virginia (WV) holds the highest fatal overdose rate in the US

In 2010 WV held one of the highest fatal overdose rates,
By 2017 much of the country's overdose rates increased
WV's 2010 numbers are higher than 60% of the country's 2017 numbers,
and WV's 2017 are higher than everybody else's.

This is not to meant to take away the pain that's transcended broadly throughout the country. This is not meant to be diminishing, not even remotely, but it is meant to shine a solemn light.

I'm sorry for those of you that may know somebody who has passed on from drugs, or that may be currently struggling with their addictions. Whether it's opiates, alcohol, or prescriptions.
But let's try to remove some of the stigma surrounding addiction.

Forgive some stolen money.
Avoid gossip and rumor.
Reach out to somebody who may have fallen away from the crowd.
I'd much rather live with an addict than haunted by a ghost.

thank you for reading
Sam Kelly Aug 2018
The pain of leaving you is creeping in,
Am I detoxing the opiates in your skin?

My fractured heart is in its mould
Held together with hopes turned cold.

The time will come for it to thaw
And expose the damage from a love so flawed.

As it crumbles it will take its bow,
For it's only to blame for the state it's in now.
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