#addicition
I don't believe you when you say
that your hands are tied.
I don't believe you when you say
that your hands don't have holes in them.
That the sand doesn't slowly pour out through the cracks between your fingers.
...
𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯...
when you asked me
to hand you my soul,
that the depths of its love,
your hands, 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱.
...
▪︎ mica light ▪︎
Jan 22, 2024
Jan 22, 2024 at 2:18 AM UTC
If you are not an addict it’s difficult to understand.
How one minute you’re pouring water, the next there’s whisky in your hand.
I drive home from work and stop in a coffee shop, pick up a coffee and make my way off.
He drives home from work and stops in a pub, picks up a pint and forgets how to love.
He comes home wide-eyed and restless in nature,
And I know the man getting into my bed is a stranger.
Someone who, up until recently I knew,
But then he re-filled his blood stream replacing it with toxicity.
And although he makes it home to me,
I still share a complicity.
I try not to be anguished and it take it so personally.
After all when I close my eyes he’s still the only one I see.
I just wish I could cure him but I’m starting to think I’m incapable,
That no amount of loving someone can make an addiction escapable.
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 5:20 PM UTC
The roses bloom around a house
Reaching over the roof and into the clouds
The thorns pierces the windows
And the roots becomes the floor I stand on
The living room becomes uninhabitable
With glass shattered on the sofa,
The TV split into two
And the air becoming unbreathable
The kitchen is full of insecurities
With rotting food in the fridge,
The missing knifes found in the tub,
And the family table with lost chairs
As a family we protect a single room
The walls are covered with mirrors
Gifted invincibility by our imagination
We stare at our reflection in wonder
Our shoulders are back
Confidence in our eyes
Our head is held high
And into the clouds
We became lost in our protection
Unable to see what is below
Until the dark and bright clouds part
Allowing the star to pierce the sky
It's is a fact that when there is more light
Our shadows become fed
Growing darker than before
And whispers into our ears
We believed we were giants
Taller than our house
And one with the roses
Wanting to seek the blue sky
Instead we trapped ourselves into the clouds
Becoming lost children
Who ignored the open window
And got pricked by a rose
We were smaller than our disguise
Once there was nothing left to compare to
Light shun into the room of mirrors
Leaving a broken family in sight
But we were all addicted
To the beauty of the roses
Who petals became clouds
And the stems that became ladders
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 7:52 PM UTC
Welcome to the city of ****** no need to know my name I'll be your tour guide.
Follow me as we stroll down ******* Boulevard where they live life so care free *** drugs, ****** the daily routine.
Make a sharp left on SlutVille Road where prostitutes salute the almighty dollar. Another hard left now we're on Addict Street where addicts get high to mask their pain. This city only has left turns, no right turns, no hope insight but anyway let's pay a visit to the ****** of ****** Corrupt politicians, slimy city officials making profits off the plight of the people.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 6:41 AM UTC
From the eager age of three, my mother taught me not to draw on myself, or I would get ink poisoning. Every time ink touched me, I'd wash it away with a warm cloth and some lingering worry. You wrote our initials on my ankle in deep blue pen, and I kept my left leg out of the bath for a week.
At the spritely age of eight, my mother made me promise never to talk to strangers. I kept my head down and my walls built high and I never said a peep to a stranger wrapped in shadow.
The first day I met you, I lay all my secrets down on that warm summer concrete and watched while you picked through them. (You didn't mind.)
Twelve years old, with a crooked, hopeful smile and my mother sat me down to talk about drugs. Those crazy, tempting things that will take away all your inhibitions and make you forget the very lessons that formed who you are. More addictive than anything you've ever had. They'll make you feel higher than the empire state building; without them, you'll go through a withdrawl worse than anything. A coexistent dependancy that will take over yourself. She reeled off a listen of words; Esctasy, LSD, ****** Crack. Somehow, she forgot to mention your name.
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
The time has come to say goodbye....
Ive decided to give my life a try....
Up until now all Ive done is get high.....
I dont want to live this way and i dont want to die....
I need to go find a church...
Stay off of twitter and not be a lurch.....
It gets me stuck as I continue to search....
sitting like a bird out on its purch....
I need to get sober and get it together.....
Now is the best time......
So I can have whats left of a life.
I guess better late then never...
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
i wanted to take another crack; at this shit, but
that’s how i became an addict.
i keep thinking about going back; my last hit, then
i think of all the reasons i quit.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 1:42 AM UTC