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Modern pop-politics is rife
with conflicts over freedom of speech,
The use of language, and phrasing
which might shape the narrative.
Consider identity politics
and efforts to control
the language of drug use:
'Addiction', 'dependence',
'Substance use disorder'.
Relabeling may not be enough
to end stigma, and knowledge
is always political. Nevertheless
a compassionate idealism strives
to contrast the weighty realism of suffering.

Alas, who can say whether drug use
is a set of choices, or the pattern of habits?
Vying between these drives, I try a few milligrams
of methoxyeticyclidine. This mortal coil, it harkens Absurdia.
The next morning I wandered town, wondering what dignity was.
Thus I found myself sitting across from the theatre, on the steps
of the courthouse as noon struck. Some solicitors emerged
and I was tempted to engage them in scholarly debate
but they would not even look my way
due to my scangerly attire
and a ropey vibe,

Spurned by 3-MeO-PCE, what shame,
kyle dionysus Aug 2022
I still remember that day. The unsettling unease.

The drive, I still remember the feeling of the cool air against my skin.

The silence of my phone. The increased rate of my heartbeats.

Something was wrong, I felt it as if the sky itself was telling me.

The memories that follow I can never unsee, as if it was stained perfectly in my mind.

That day my heart sank into the abyss.

If only I was sooner.
Can’t help but find it comedically painful.
She laid on stained sheets
that were once pure white,
desperate for love she gave her body away everynight,

With mascara running down her face,
on the floor she laid in the same place,  she didn't sleep in the bed unless it was for a ***** deed,

Soon a gentle touch awoke her from where she fell asleep,
A kinda touch that the soul feels so deep,
She looked up to his face
from his feet,
and
saw that his expression was sweet,
He took her body in his arms,
She couldn't walk from the ******
harm,

Then she felt shame when she realized, JESUS was His name,
In his arms she began to weep,
But he reassured her that he
was in her heart for keeps,

She could not express joy and peace,
after all, not after all of her sins,

She couldn't figure out...
how she ended up in the arm's of
The Prince of Peace,

She was made pure and clean,
White as a mountain snow scene,

God is great,
Kneel before it's too late,
Let Him heal you're wounds and scars, His love shines better than all the stars.
From strained sheets and stained with shame to pure white and clean. She didn't want that kind of life but she didn't see a way out. She wore her make-up dark and deep and every day and night she'd pray and weep. No one knew her true heart of hearts BUT, The ONE, and He intervened. He made her clean and he showed her so much love that she forgot all the shame. Now she had a new life and a new name because Jesus heard her and Jesus knew her heart. See more at https://m.facebook.com/VenjencieCliftonArnold
Zack Ripley Feb 2021
It's not about the bad times.
It's not about the good times.
It's about all the times.
The heartache and the pain.
The kisses in the rain.
There's so much for you to gain
If you don't worry
About your heart getting stained
Val Vik Feb 2021
The way raindrops glide
.  with a faint clap of thunder
  .   into coalescence
.        .
.     .
    .    .
   .   .
    .
Haiku # 8
Let us dance and merge into a whole - the reunion of souls
Emma Pratt Feb 2021
my cold dead heart was made
absolutely empty
so,
they tell me i can
take a knife to it

though

it would be,
for me,
easier
to face myself

with my soul
having been stained
inspired by the fragments of Sappho
Man Jan 2021
all the people i know
have stained my brain
with their misery and their woe,
don't they know?
i have them too
but i would never shovel them on you
it doesn't seem the right thing to do
when i could give you all love
and give woe the shove
i work it out myself
though there's still pain on the shelf
it's below me, not above
i have pain
because all i give is love
Grey Nov 2020
Sixty red balloons
Seeping air through barely-patched holes
Falling from the sky.
11/17/2020
Inspired by 99 Luftballons by Nena (99 Red Balloons is the English version).
Zack Ripley Sep 2020
Red cheeks.
Flaming heart.
Soul stains and rusts
As it's consumed by lust.
But not for you.
Payal Dhiman Jul 2020
Water stained glass windows
Tear stained pillows
Heart spilling blood staining my brain
I feel so cold
This air is stained
Stained with the smell of you.
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