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Jaede Bayala Apr 2019
if you bite it and you die, its poisonous
i show you love
love & compassion that you need that
i think you need.
& you **** it in you
but what do i get?

if it bites you and you die, its venomous
i let you in.
the front doors were rusty but you helped me
fix them. little did
I know, that
one you
were inside you’d
break down every
wall i had.
Nyx May 2018
It's like poison
Toxic, deadly and addicting
Coasing through my body
Clouding my mind
Taking over

Its consuming me
Within this detrimental thing called love
An Unstoppable force
Thats made its way into the deepest crevices of my heart

Its burning my lungs
Suffocating, tightening its grip
Firmly planted down
And unwilling to let go

A hallucinogen, stimulant
Drug trip made for two
Infused within my soul
Glowing with a venomous hue

Its posion is bitter sweet
The promise of affection drawing me in
Filling me with contentment
Before the consequences set in filling me with resentment

Its intoxicating
An endless haze of love, destruction and despair
A drug that ive become reliant on
The pain and suffering to prove that i am there

Allowing me to reach my high
Happiness and never ending bliss awaits
Though with every high comes a even worse low
Its leaving me on the ground, greif ridden and despondent
Desperatly yearning for what was

Stuck on repeat
In the same mindless cycle
Drawn in by the same toxic poison
Merely by a different name

My addiction called Love
nim May 2018
and you feel so lonesome
you're always cold
want to, but can't go bold
you don't feel so awesome

your nails grip your tights
and you hurt yourself, so it will hurt less
can't handle all of this stress
can't seem to find the lights

and each and every day it hurts more and more
you lock it in yourself, the pain,
but you know you can never sustain
all the sore and the gore

put the headphones in your ears
screaming louder, the words of the song
but you know the song wasn't as long
it's a way to let out all of your tears

and every day you say you're fine
and each morning you wake up tired
but a trigger in your head had already fired,
nobody understood, it was a sign

and all of your colour has been drained,
nothing makes you wish you were awake,
and every day, all over again, you break:
but your ****** expressions have been well trained

so don't tell me I'm alright
don't tell me there's hope for humanity
this - all - is insanity;
don't tell me the world is a pleasant sight

and don't convince me otherwise;
everyone has their own meaning to life,
even if it's their own ******* knife,
or if they choose to rise

and I don't have a **** note

for you or your friends

because the world's posioned and everyday, for someone, it ends

....and nobody has the antidote
Callie Apr 2018
a poem
     is like poison

when you read them
     its more like
        being stabbed in the heart
            by a
Kellin Feb 2018
After the heart stops there are seven minutes of brain activity left. Seven minutes, where the brain plays back movie memories of what shaped it- like a homage to the *****, like a final goodbye to the restless dreamers that lived by it, and the unwavering capacity by which they loved through it.
During the first minute, I saw you. I saw you as if it was the first time, and my god you were perfect. I saw the coy smiles, the terrible dance moves, and the genuine laughter. I saw you lean in for our first kiss. I saw me beaming on my way home, spellbound thinking, "This is something big. This is going to ruin me."
Minute two and three I saw the flicker of our flame, saw the way your bones played with moonlight, saw the endless letters you wrote me, scrawled in graphite along the surface of my skin. I saw the person you were working towards, awe-inspiring.  I saw the clock, as we counted down the the days, gripping tighter and tighter within our within our false reality, until I saw goodbye. The colours of every sunset I had ever witnessed, come together to build the contours of your face. I saw the purples of your under eyes. I saw the whites of your teeth. I saw the pink of your lips, and the reds that made the flush in your cheeks. I saw the person who had shaped me, the person who dig my heart up like dinosaur bones.I finally saw the person you were and the person I had made you become. But more importantly, I saw me, the dark shadow in the corner of your mind. I saw you whisper goodbye and god i wish there wasn't a billion souls because all I see in them is ur absence and it that moment, in the beauty of your night sky I finally closed my eyes and with my last breath your poison escaped my bones.
Anivel Aidan May 2016
i have a head made out of rock,
a body filled with poison,
and a void soul.

i am afraid
that my greatest strength
turns out to be my achilles heel.

i am looking at a blank canvas
with spots of red and blue and black.
i assume, i judge, and i am,
more often than not, obdurate.

sometimes, all i want is an answer,
but when they give it to me,
i can't listen because
the voices in my head
are telling me that i should just go
and that i have endured enough.

i am terrified of the voices in my head
that keep telling me that i am not
pretty enough
good enough
smart enough
because despite the fact that i know
that i am enough,
they still get me down.

i want to be myself,
but isn't the voices inside my head
is a part of what made me who i am?
E Townsend Sep 2015
The president of the horticulture club
thumbs the violet leaves of a aconite
ignoring the shooting pain crawling on her skin.
The other members glare at her,
waiting for the reaction-
touch the frail plant
and your mouth is sure to set on fire.
The contact she has on the flower
is insanely dangerous.
Potent alkaloids bloom overhead
and she continues to breathe in deeply as if she is trying to swallow
the strong, acrid taste of the atmosphere,
which should have sent her into a frenzy of disorientation
and seizures of her small limbs
but at last, she glances
at the frozen treasurer and spoke calmly, her mouth slouching,
"Are you writing this down?
I want the future of this club
to know to never touch plants
without doing their research."
Then she blinks,
slumps against the bench,
Birdy To Be Free May 2015
Air is carefully flowing through my lungs
another poising breath...
It's night for me
every breath hurts
wish they weren't sleeping...
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