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Cardboard-Jones Jan 2021
The night started off right, good friends, good vibes, all love.
Downtown Charm City and it was all about us.
Got a couple rounds of shots, pretty soon it was all hugs.
I was fading, for real.
Here’s a good pic of a girl all in my ear.
Telling me everything that I probably wanna hear.
I think I said “Girl I’m from the Old Bay.”
And then she said “Mmm bring it my way.”
Put in a request for the DJ, he said
Alright, okay.

We kept drinking drink after drink, we’re tipsy.
Now we’re on the floor cutting loose, acting like a fool.
She gave me a kiss? Did I kiss back?
Oh ****, don’t remember that!
How much did I have to drink last night?

I woke up with a total stranger.
She had her grips on me.
Here’s me in the car with her.
Made me feel like a king.
I made a slideshow with her?
Everything’s such a blur.

I woke up in her bed while she's downstairs making eggs.
Am I alright?
I’m okay.
Drunk nights get remembered more than sober ones....kinda
Poetic T Oct 2020
Pushin my baby on the swing each one way,
        Bullets passing the wind not punching
me and my baby. But the fools be running
like they could outrun fate.

They can't escape the crosshairs of
  ill-prepared revenge.  
    Cadavers hit the floor blood outlines
that turn white after they felled.

I kept pushing my youth, hoping
she'd grow to an age where she
           could push her own.

But every day I playing Russian
   roulette with her swinging,
    me pushing her further so that
she's higher than the gunshots

          as they always hitting lower.

Today I was pushing her, she in her nikes,
     swinging her higher than death could
catch her tight grip...

But my neighbor she hanging low, catching
two unfollowed friend requests  flying through
the air, one in the thigh, one between the thoughts,

I kept pushing as her shadow swallowed by her
folding on the floor, her baby swinging slower
but still alive.

         Blue took her to her daddy, hope they
find out who they are as she had more than
           one by another man...

I m still here pushing my baby on a silent playground.
      No one comes here, that's good for me.
   pushing her low as there isn't a problem
of drive-bye byes... No more *******, no one to ****.
                  There is just me and my baby pushing..

Come on baby its time to go home,
                 the road is white, and we aren't
going to our usual place...

R.I.P to those who never didn't do nothing.

Another drive-by, grills smiling as flashes
greeting shaded window frames,
                                          hanging low.
Guntang Jul 2020
all about
shots were fell
lighted splinters beyond
turning nuance
from nuance
into now
Angela Rose Apr 2020
After all, shots of straight ***** taste better than the thought of you and her
I deserve to be more than sexualized
Poetic T Apr 2020
I'm no trailer park trash,
you may live
                      forty three stories more than me..

But I'll reach higher than you any day of the week.

I only have to take one step,
                             to tell what is
                        curb crawling around me.

Trying to sell me false hopes,
            selling me bath salt dreams.

But there more like bubble bath,
          popping before I even enjoyed it.

Your hopes and dreams are sky high,
illusions of
           your first steps.
A worthless dime falling from  a great height.

              No one even heard you

Cos there only interested what's
                                      happening on the street..

Your just a stain that no one really looked at,

                                                        cares about.

    As there's plenty more chalk outlines
                            that children hopscotch over..

Can you count to ten..

Then there's another gunshot..
          like a storm, they hitting in the distance..

Just another cold breath that falls from ground zero...
                                                  burn stains on the
                    that play pause.

                                        No breath... no care.

I'm here at ground zero,
            your up there in your fairy-tale

hanging from your chandelier,

But I'm swinging lower but still breathing.
Georgie Mar 2020
We lock eyes across the bar
Hit pool ***** with sticks
Clink glasses filled with drinks
And dance badly to songs on the jukebox

We buy shots with our friends
Gossip on the stairs
Hug when the night ends

The student soundtrack to our love story
Went to a writing group, wrote this
Gray Dawson Mar 2020
Raise a loaded gun to my head
Arms turn to lead
Laugh loud, eyes widen crazily
Dig the barrel into the side of my head hysterically

Sweat sticks to the palms
My finger inches toward the trigger
The cold dark metal cools my racing thoughts
I remember the taste of maple syrup for some reason as I pull closer to the trigger

Leave the sleepy bedroom scene in front of me,
behind me as I close my eyes
Take a cracked breath
Pull the trigger
Marietta Ginete Dec 2019
My mind’s a canvas, it is blank.
With words, my heart sank.
My mind is full of thoughts.
My desk is full of shots.

I made a poem book for you.
But the words won’t come through.
So alas, it is still a blank.
Empty like the shots I just drank.
heartbreak szn coming thru
pop in the mag
rack the slide
take it off safety
lets go for a ride

pull back that trigger
hear a bang bang bang
another twelve shots
never feel the pain
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