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Isaac Ward Jun 3
I took a handful of pills,
So I don't have to feel,
Chased 'em with straight Gin,
Where do I end or begin?

It's killing me or the memories,
They're lined up like enemies,
This Mary Jane by my side,
The only place I can hide,

I've been high for two weeks,
I haven't yet hit my peak-
And all the dealers are dry,
A ten strip of acid to fly,

She told me to leave her alone-
So I done sold my phone,
And now I'm doing these lines,
While my heart is doing time.
zoe May 16
-
I can still hear you teasing me
When I'd steal your cigarettes
I only smoked with you
And I miss smoking.
kat victoria Apr 17
i’m over the withdrawals
i fought through the pain
and even though the high is gone
i still think about you everyday
Officially,
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
flowed,
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
taint
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.
Fully.

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.
Katie V-W Jan 20
To feel numb
                                           Withdrawal
To be judged,
                                           Expectation
To be in a world
                                           Existing
Dante Algheri Nov 2018
I found a snake berry in the garden;
It tasted mild, sweeter in the garden.

It curled around augustine and bloomed in
the thickly ****-breaker of the garden.

I ate the snake berry as the warden of backyard play, augur of the garden.

The berry snake beckoned and beckoned
"Is the fruit mild, sweeter in the garden?"

It was, I said, sweeter in the garden
It tasted mild, sweeter in the garden.
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