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now i've always had my vices
one at a time like my lovers.
and like my lovers, too,
they make me feel when all else is naught.

when i was a girl
with long long hair
as yellow as the sun
and eyes
which had only just begun
to hide,
her name was Maggie
and it felt so good-
like puppy love-
and it came in the form of
whatever was sharp enough
to draw blood.

and then
i had opened myself
to the world,
and her name was Gwen.
and she held me
for longer than ever before,
and it came by day
and it came by night,
and my fists kept pounding
until the bruise was bright
green in color
and spreading

and then i found help
(along with myself)
and i did not need to cut
or to hit
and her name was Adriana,
and i felt alive alive alive,
and for once i was not
despairing the fact.

and then a wave crashed down
and my lungs filled up
with salty
and her name was Katherine,
and she was my best friend,
and i drank until
i could not

and time went on
and my mouth did too,
and i found myself
in Love.
the lightest kind
of feeling,
and I can't help
but cry
just thinking about it.
And her name was Sarah,
or Wisconsin,
or Crosby,
and it was a billow
of smoke shaped ****
that drifted up from my lips.
this was the easiest time of all.

and then it crashed down-
not a wave, but my body-
and i found myself alone
and her name-
their names-
well, i can't remember.
and it came in the form of a pill
or a few,
and i hurt myself laughing
at the dumb morning dew,
and i hurt myself thinking
of my future,
run through.
and i hurt myself back
in the first way that i knew.

my blood dripping down
through the soft cotton wipe,
it's just how i thought
that i would
end my life.
i'm good dog it's just wild
the calendar now marks
that it's been over a year
since I've last had your taste.
I should be proud
of myself
- and I am -
but more so, I am
surrounded by frustration.

I cannot write code like I used to.
Neither can I
find the words to write poetry
like I used to.
With you,
my creativity and passion
came effortlessly:
like turning on a tap
from which the essence
whenever I took
my next hit.

Now, it's been
over a year from you;
and the passion from which
you robbed me of
is starting to come back.

I refuse to let
my memories of you
that which I love.

My subdued passion
for programming,
video games,
and literature
shall not be dull forever.

With every new moon
that passes,
the fog in the mirror
continues to fade,
as my reflection
becomes clear.

And with it,
I feel (more than anything)
the ambition
that which you stole from me
ever-so-slowly return.

I so desperately
searched for my soul
while in your grasp.
Clouded by your embrace,
I lost myself,
and saw only the image you painted
in the mirror.

In time I will find myself again.

One year clean
is something to celebrate.
been clean from speed a year and haven't wrote anything because it's hard for me to come up with anything of remote quality without the drug. at least that's what it feels like on my end. ah well, one year clean celebration poem.
m Jan 31
you told me
to quit smoking
before it occupies my bloodstream,
my lungs
before i forget
how to breathe
without choking up my throat

you told me
to quit my vices
as if you are no different
from cigarettes.
-should i start quitting you too?
DeMangogh Dec 2018
There's nobody that cares enough to look past my career,
Even I don't give a **** about the far future or near.
I am waiting for the day that I can get drunk off my rear,
If it saves a life, go ahead and put me to the spear.
Definitely not suicidal, that hotline's not my speed dial.
The evil's really there, but I'm the one who's even more vile.
My fam and friends love me, too bad the hate is deafening.
If you really wanna help me then be more than just threatening.
Can't walk with pride, so I crawl. Society's centipede.
seventy percent chance that I won't live to see seventy.
My heart plenty big, but plenty dark. My bullet biting thoughts mostly small, cause it's all bark.
But I am always down to get together, hang out at the park whenever.
Maybe even spark a little, save these memories for forever.
Keeps me and my homies tethered down, weather won't catch us now.
May not see right past this fog, but I see through you now.

It's the easy path to label all problems under depression,
no one wants proper treatment, but prefer smoke sessions.
Then you think you learned your lesson, underneath it's all digression.
Takes you at least a year to break down and start confession.
It poisons me to see my friends fade into strangers with problems,
only thing you can do is relate and say "Amen".
Why did you ignore omens? My door was wide open,
but then again I have my problems that I don't cope with.
slay Dec 2018
Since the **** when did i become so impulsive?
My thoughts are repulsive
I'm a sedentary sulker
I need instant gratification, need to lighten up my aura

Self indulgence is a Taurus, and
I'm a ***** for the chorus
Caught up in your orbit
Like the 6th key on an *****
The pitch of which, like the ***** of my organs,
Faking an ****** to release some endorphins

But that's not me...
I'd rather kick up my feet
One hand on the small of my back, the other feeding me treats

I put a Lindt truffle on my tongue and as it melted it tasted like you,
Folded the wrapper into triangles, tryna get my good side adjacent to you

So let me get you on my couch alone
How ****** hot are you to watch cartoons and get ******?
How ****** hot are you? Put the fan on and go
Take your shirt off or no?
Something's got to give and me what i want is front row
Go on and say something daring, it's just the merlot
Simone Zona Nov 2018
i come to you half mad with desire
my *** turned to sacrifice;
starved, like an Unwatered flower,
A wretched *****,
A sacred *******,
A temple of worship,

Do you remember How you created me?
In A sort of Rebirth, out of the carcass I once was
Aching to be consumed
All my flesh and bones and sinews,
Stripped away.
Now, just the soft dew of our skin,
The clear thickened air dressed in fire
Smoked by the scents of sage and salt
evoking numberless poems

For me to swim through your body
back and forth in a sacred liturgy
Bloodied and purified I am Laid bare before you now
amidst The white sheets of  the alter
A purity of sin almost worthy of  worship,
almost crying out the holiness of **** before the gods.
And Our velvet kiss turning to a midnight confession
all of our vices and virtues
Are as blood and as sky.
Based off the concept of physical love and religious love as being two manifestations of the same impulse.
refresh mesh Nov 2018
Obesity and malnourishment
from high tides of anxiety

Gargling on plastic-filled saline
trapped by ancient propriety

Stuffed into a submissive pit
deprived of real variety

Our vices clearly failing
while we ridicule sobriety

This hunger's for the birds
because we live in a society
Crego Nov 2018
Inhale the stress
like those cigarettes
you love to smoke.
And hold the anxiety
in your lungs
like the chemicals
that turned them
to pitch black.
Rick Warr Oct 2018
i am gloriously indulgent
when left to my own devices
lashings of stylish fulfillment
in a mix of virtues and vices

i have my sense of order
though i am craven to desire
drunk with a sense of beauty
to torch blandness with fire

poor dear mediocrity
your time is not with me
you are my sworn enemy
find others for company

i burn for what is art
and those, who do it for love
they are my choice of company
together, we'll rise above

This is just how I feel.
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