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Kelsey 2d
A needle pushed through skin
Extracting life from veins
Another one is gone too soon
No longer fun and games

The word gets out, the posts are made
"I saw you just last week"
A family mourns a broken soul
A person so unique

What happened to their little girl?
Her eyes sparkled in the sun
Replaced by an empty, lifeless gaze
In the end, the darkness won

They clothed her in a long sleeve dress
To hide the markings on her arms
Around her bony, pale white wrist
Her favorite bracelet, dangling charms

They lower her into the ground
The grieving is far from done
And in the time it takes to blink
Somewhere, evil steals another one
How many days have you spent,
and how many days has it been?
How many days have you went,
without eating,
focusing on breathing,
trying to make this make sense?

How many pill bottles did you sink,
and how many bottles did you drink?
How many hours did you think,
about the ending,
wrote a message without sending,
looking at the bottom standing on the brink?

How many times have you heard,
that what you are doing’s absurd?
Opening your mouth without forming words,
addicted to addiction,
an addict who is itchin,
listening to the voices who are constantly stirred.

How many pills does it take,
until your body finally breaks?
How do you get rid of the shakes?
Constantly feeling,
but never dealing,
hopefully you’re  here to see the daybreak.
Brando Jan 28
Death holds her hand
Cowering in the corner of her room
Greeted by the familiar face
She welcomes him with open arms
Whipping away her tears
His cold embrace engulfs her
Arms wrapped around her body
As the flames of her anger are extinguished
His grasp slicing into her like glass
Serpent coiled around his prey
Unable to flinch
She gives in to death
And the fight for her last breath has ceased
Momoir Jan 26
The ****** is in hospital with full blown [illegible] one year later
One year ago today
I killed the rose
Because something was wrong
Written by my mother, date unknown
Momoir Jan 26
A SINGLE yellow rose
tipped with pale burgundy
scented with the bitter sweet
from being plucked too young
STRONG PENETRATING THORNS

******, halcion, alcohol, tuinal
***** *******

A ****** sweats on the ragged black leather couch
sick, whining,
in the dismal grey vampire apartment

Something smells
Something is eerie
Something is wrong

Good! You're home with the outfits
there's a knock at the door
Good! the stuffs here
let's drown in the chemical reprieves
because,

Something smells
Something is eerie
Something is so wrong

The relief sets in fast and I can relax a bit
Hey, where'd the rose come from?
"IT'S FROM ME BABE, HAPPY VALENTINES!"

Something smells
Something is eerie
Something is desperately wrong

IT'S TIME FOR ME TO leave, I KNOW THAT I MUST go
Written by my mother, date unknown
saffronne Jan 23
could you please
hold me
while i overdose
on our
deprived
attention?
~s
James Jan 22
vicodin is a long term friend
with a warrent for my liver
and my life.

1:43am
we had an appointment
and god only knows
i could never be late for such
a chalky sense of closure.

and the young paramedic
who burst my vein and scolded me
could only pray his words
meant more than the hum of streetlights
as my body exchanged existence
for the embodiment of thought
and a brittle concept of my phrenic nerve

which was never more at peace than when
my lungs remembered the luxury
of standstill traffic

of weighted morals

of crushing insecurity's release
and the resulted ballooning
as squashed egos cry, and the garage door screams as it's yanked open

horrid sounds and tortured motion on both accounts

spiritual cataracts torn free
commercialized visions now blur

as the orange bottle morphs from
vicodin to paracetamol

equalized views in my bloodstream
as the sheet metal ceiling shifts to plaster tiles

to a TV set

to a bathroom mirror

to an agonized woman next door

to the back windows where my mother cries where no one but the whole world can watch

to a blue plastic mattress and a first floor window covered with bars

to a pale green day room with a caged TV
where there was bleach in the stomach of a nine year old

where the dying took their resurrecting breath between games of spoons

where the hinges screamed and blood pressure was taken three times a day

this where the living came to kiss death goodbye

until next time
Lost Jan 9
Cigarette lungs
And poisoned guts
I have a rotten brain
Riddled with curdled spots

I ****** down fistfuls
Of pills from six separate bottles
I can’t nurture any self love
But I find loathing inside to cradle and coddle

Scarred skin
And rampant decay
I am an animated corpse
A macabre, dancing display

In the ICU for three days
Tachycardia and shakes
Jellied my legs into
Disobedient writhing snakes

Cobweb chest
And festering heart
I pucker and ooze
Sickly sour and ****

Hospital hallucinations
On the sink sat a friendly bird
It shifted from form to form
Singing beautiful songs no one else heard
I tried to **** myself by overdosing on various medications December 28th. I haven’t been able to write anything worthwhile since, but I still wanted to share something anyway since I’ve been away at the hospital for so long. It feels good to be out and to be making progress. I will keep writing until I can create something of value again. Thank you all for your unconditional support and patience. I appreciate this outlet endlessly.
Luna Jay Dec 2018
Unheard-

They poke and ****.

Absurd-

I don’t fit you description of a ******-

So doctor, jump me.

I didn’t ask for the

Endless sob-

The rejection of fleshing

My health and anxieties

Into human form again.

You’re not a friend,

You’re a judgmental man

In a lab coat

Who denotes his time to

Giving patients unanswered answers

And more pills.

I’m never going to be sorry

I do not fit into this

Patriotic Addiction

That has taken so many from me-

How dare you…
Justin Soberano Dec 2018
A heart cold as ice,
Melts when treated nice.
A few drops of ******,
Put on your lip balm,
Risk and roll the dice!
Let’s not care about your vice!
A few **** of nicotine,
Needles filled with morphine,
Drink your codeine,
Destroy your veins with ******.
Maybe twice,
Maybe thrice.
Forget all your worries,
Burn your autum leaves,
Forget how to live,
Like breath’s stolen by thieves.
A poem about drugs. I’m just an 18 year old boy that hasn’t tasted drugs, or even alcohol and tobacco. It’s just a product of my endless self-control I guess. Except for caffeine, I’m addicted to that.
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