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Antonia Aug 27
the smoke from my cigarette
stains
I have this smoke
all through my veins
it runs freely whenever it wants

the smoke from my cigarette stains.

the inhale is deep
and the smoke remains.
my lungs are intoxicated
and full of stains.

smoking hot
or smoking cold

I don’t care for seasons
my cigarettes taste good all year round
Jeremy Betts Aug 26
Everything I write is filled with the same,
It's all hurt and pain
And feeling insane
And how I can't stay in my own lane
Continually asking, "what's wrong with this brain?"
While evening else sounds like
Complain
Complain
Complain
It's just easier to remember the rough terrain
And every little stain
Leading me to ask, "why should I remain?"

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jul 23
I melt like ice on a hot plate
Like a candle to a flame
All I know is pain
Though it now sits as an unforgettable stain
The receptors were never meant too sustain
The onslaught like constant rain
Proving to be too much to maintain
I now feel nothing,
Teetering on the cusp of insane
Not unfamiliar terrain
I recognize fears domain
Spent a lot of time on that plane
Where a single step forward is a strain
And one look back can reattach the chain
Scars from a dangerous brain
Are the only parts of the original me that remain
If need be,
Look for my face in the wood grain

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jun 26
Can't dislodge the shiit clot caught in my brain stem
On a marry go round of hell hounds, can't outrun them
I find it strange that a life can be all pain with no gain
I find it strange that nothing remains other than battle wounds and blood stains
The coward in me always wins with it's upper hand
My grand plan is to get my head deeper in the sand
The conversations from both sides of my mouth become simultaneous
Keeping this unstable, rival mindset at bay is strenuous, it's made me venomous

©2024
i can cut all the petals off of you,

as viciously as i please....

but what i will fail to accomplish is the pulling of your roots.

They've ran too deep.

and well,

the petals will all return too soon.

and quite frankly

i remembered every color in them, anyway.

close your eyes to the sun, and I promise -

the iris will still feel him.


cowardice
Erik T Blaze May 2022
I've been fighting with temptation in everyday that I'm
faced with
Resetting my mind
all of my hopes and my dreams
onto the re--placement
Of every loss
And the suicidal thoughts of me
Losing / Control
Still engaged in my mind, I'm inclined
while
Maintaining the goal
of walking down that straight and
narrow road of Life
Because I have a date with Destiny in spite of what is ailing me
in-
Sight
While all the while?
Through the dark of night
I'm forced to fight with many
different things,
With no self-esteem trying to figure out
who to believe
And who to trust and on whom
can I call?
Soul is uncontent to balance the fence
Slowly committed to fall
All while seeing the steady fall
Of my many brethrens called
For the same purpose and the work that was meant for us all
But still my soul fell slowly down
De-pression's Well
Totally left to figure out how to
make it out
Wondering how I slipped and fell?
Fallen waist deep
Lost
within the clutches of grief
With seemingly no way of me finding
an answer,
And no way of me holding my Peace
So as a means of release?
I'm now speaking my Peace
Releasing for this reason having the means
of picking up the
Spiritual  Pieces
And putting it all back together using it for what it's worth
Visualizing the Holy theme giving birth to revive my hopes and
Dreams
But these dreams are not seen through the eyes of surprise
But only seen through the joyfulness of watching our spirits
Rise
Riiising out of the ashes where the
fearfulness is cruel and savage,
Out of the madness where the hopelessness is the rule of sadness
Escaping the Pain
No longer bond under heavy
Locks and Chains
No more wounds to be healed
No wounds to seal
No bandages with

-Stains-
I wrote this for motivational purposes
Man Apr 2021
on the wall
hung a clock
melting in the day's ire
running toward the ground,
it ran fast sometimes
and occasionally
mind numbingly sluggish

in the washbasin
the rags i wore
soaked in a soapy stillwater
waiting for the wash
that these tired hands
must do

these blemished hands
how they hurt
strained from work
like the oil stains
on his shirt
they are worn
they are torn
and are without comforting
though his resolve is strong
his will is weak
from the havoc wreaked
from a life of low pay
struggling to live
week to week
knowing you deserve better
Eola Dec 2020
Blank paper
So pure
Let me corrup you with thoughts
And stain with blue scars
Eola Nov 2020
It runs through it's masters veins
With a thick consistency that stains
The journeys that it usually takes
Often are in snowy plains
When it stops, it makes chains
Of epic tales that advance our brains
After the centuries it remains
To help us in the quest to obtain
The knowledge we seek to retain
What is it?
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