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Skylar Keith Jan 2018
Shimmering lightly as you move
Lights bouncing off of your high features
I think this must be a dream

You'd never do this
Yet here you are
Moving against me as the night fades

Gestures into touches
Gazes into stares
Thoughts into actions

Last Night
Tonight
Tomorrow's night

Soft and warm to the touch
Your skin under my fingertips
We keep coming back to this

Darkness comes
You come
I come
Easing into the working mood of a Saturday
Zoe Mae Jan 2018
I latched onto the beast as it took off with a pounce
And I gave all I had pound for pound ounce for ounce
And just as I thought I had reached the beast's head
I looked up and was under the belly instead
bex Dec 2017
I’ve always been small.
Height-wise and generally, weight-wise, too.
But for some reason, it clicked in my head that I couldn’t be 110 anymore.
100 was one digit too many.

95 was 5 too heavy.

1000 was 800 too many for a day.

48 hours of emptiness wasn’t enough.

I’ve never been overweight or anywhere near. I’ve been at a lower weight my whole life.

Its never really been about losing weight but I can’t stop myself from making it become a goal.

I’m falling back into bad habits.

I’m wilting. Decaying.
**** i love RELAPSING
Mysterious Mind Dec 2017
I have a passion to give.  
A passion to inflict love onto others.
A passion to become the best.

However, as the time peels by, the passion churns into an obsession. An obligation.

I must help others.
I must love others.
I must be the best.

The time keeps ticking, and even though I’m barely keeping my head above these flood of emotions, I must be this ideal, “passionate” person.

I’m failing.
I can’t keep up.
What have i become? These self-made obligations are killing me.

I’ve become obsessed with giving so much of myself that i didn’t notice i was drowning.
I don’t have the energy to keep going. But i must.

How do you recover from giving so much of yourself, when you have nothing left to give? To others? To myself?

This life of passion has made me hollow and i just want to feel again. No matter the cost, because i must.
Relapse is a *****.
Kaitlyn Nov 2017
A rush of blood to the head
The excitement of dread
Why
Do we yearn for the reasons we bled?

To be free from reality
Can't see your mortality
It's no surprise
The devil loves hospitality

Nobody watches him slide through the door
You give him everything yet he somehow wants more
Let him tear up the carpet
The curtains
The floor

That was the last time

Every time
You swore

k.d.
October Rain Nov 2017
These urges keep coursing through my mind.
The feelings it brought the sensation I felt.
It was my own personal drug that no one will take. 
My body tingles as the feeling of it comes running through my head and i can almost feel it .
But almost isn't enough.
I need it, I crave it, it was the one thing keeping me sane.
And it's been gone for so long it frightens me.
The thought  of never feeling it again.
So I whisper as I stand alone in my room my hands shaking in anticipation "Just one more time, one more time and I'll stop.
  No one has to know it'll be our little secret.
Kriti Gupta Nov 2017
it comes and goes in waves
dragging you for days
riddled with cliches
set in one's ways
I have known this fool from half way through high school,
And the best part about it is watching the fool replace himself
With the will of gods that only exist in myths,
And the strength of a thousand dead martyrs.
And it's gonna get harder man, it's gonna get a lot harder-
But the longer you remain,
your bones will begin to hold the secrets
On ******* your demons.
The longer you remain,
The endorphins will drift from your veins
And your soul will take their place.
In 2017, at this age,
What normal human being isn't coping with these societal traditions
By forcing their brain into addiction?
These are ancient laws of man, transcending modern knowledge.
Evolution made us capable of questioning our origin or divinity,
And some dare say that an imaginary man gave them this gift of sight;
Societal traditions to condition us into complacent perpetuation of the history that enslaves us.
Lately I haven't been able to hold one train of thought without
Going off the rails, but instead of crashing and burning,
I just travel at the speed of light around all the answers
that could be right.
Ultimately you inspired me to say
I am so proud that you are here today.
With my brothers wild spirit tamed by opiates,
He lingers on my bicep in memorial form
He lingers in the prayers I whisper to the dead,
As gods do not hear your prayers.
(they are too busy creating universes and
punishing their own creations
for acting out of free will)
My prayers are answered by people I know,
Whose physical forms met quietus.
They live on in otherworldly favors,
They live on in signs and vibes.
There is more to death than meets the eye.
Tangent after tangent,
I shall come to a close.
My brother was lost to needle and tar:
He passed away at the grocery store,
In the emptiness of his only car.
My friend, you are not lost
And you are still with us.
I'm so proud you now know the cost
Of instantaneous gratification offered by
The ****** drug.
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