#opiates
Like a bird with broken wings,
I look on with eyes full of envy
as all those around me take flight.
Held down by my own chains,
Left alone, aside from the emptiness;
The hollow realization
That something is missing,
But never knowing the slightest sense
Of what that something is.
Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 8:41 AM UTC
So beautiful,
So ****
So alluring
She may be.
She'll take it all
Even your soul.
And demand ever more.
Until all are gone.
To her you're just one more.
She'll take your money,
Family and friends.
Your very life.
She'll take it all.
And causes only strife.
She'll **** you dry,
And make you wanna cry.
And leave you empty,
And wishing to die.
And might not know,
The reason why.
These merchants of death.
With her they ply.
Filled with only greed,
They'll not notice,
Or even care,
When you die.
There's plenty more,
To take your place.
You were nothing,
But money,
And a face.
Don't trust her smiling face.
So beautiful and ****
She might seem.
But,
She will rob,
Your self esteem.
And leave you empty,
Broken,
And alone.
If you're even alive
May 11, 2023
May 11, 2023 at 8:44 PM UTC
You were a warm, weighted blanket,
You comforted me when I was alone.
You made me feel safe and well,
You quickly became my home.
Your embrace was warm and welcoming,
But soon became too hot.
I tried to kick you off of me,
I fought with all I’ve got.
Your hold was now too tight,
Sometimes I couldn’t breathe.
I swore I’d never touch you again,
But I’m truth, I couldn’t leave.
You were all I never wanted,
This thing, sewn to my bed,
But I couldn’t ask a soul for help,
So I clung to you instead.
People soon began to worry,
If I was doing alright.
I missed work, events, and meals,
Just to sleep with you at night.
I thought that I could manage you,
That I could pick and choose…
“An evening here, an evening there”
But it’s a game that I would lose.
One night you suffocated me,
Made me sleep for “one last time”.
But someone cut you off of me,
And brought me back to life.
I really thought I loved you,
But I should have known better.
I should have known you’d almost **** me…
I should have bought a sweater.
Mar 12, 2022
Mar 12, 2022 at 8:55 PM UTC
These addictions
My mind says I need
But it’s only what I want
Because I’m bored as can be
Fill this emptiness
My urge is on repeat
Give me some *** food
alcoholic, drugs
This hunger needs to feed
Who can go without
The rush that they now know
Every time the needle sticks
The world just turns to gold
In between is a living hell
Yet although they don’t seem to mind
They return to the ******** ******
Time after time
And that my friends
Is the condition you’re seeing
When this addictive nature
Hi Jack’s a human being.
Dec 19, 2020
Dec 19, 2020 at 7:52 AM UTC
Opiates are the religion of the masses.
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 6:51 PM UTC
Justin I forgive you, won’t you call me, your birthday must be coming soon we haven’t spoken since we moved our family into the desert. I just pray you’re not seeking cotton fever yet again, chasing the dragon, or at the very least eating school buses while falling into ‘H’ before you find yourself in bed drunk again, and on Ambien too. Dead too soon. You’ve always wondered why I didn’t introduce you to Ryan, my other incredibly dear and brotherly friend. Well wonder none more, he’s in a padded room at Mt. Sinai in Lakeview or perhaps Northwestern’s adult care unit, there was talk or at least I imagined he could make it to Lakeside Manor right there East of Foster. So it’s clemency, peace of mind, and something to loosen the edge off your back, something to let you fall, something to set your pain at weightless your mind at I-Don’t-Have-To-Give-A-Fuck-Anymore, my friend where have you been? Where have you taken yourself? Please drag yourself back at least a half-step, reverse your position and engineer an out please. I can’t begin to accept losing both of my brothers to two versions of the same disease.
Oct 20, 2019
Oct 20, 2019 at 1:10 AM UTC
Life is meaningless
Life is pointless
Is anyone seeing this
Disappointment?
I become avoidant
From annoyance
I slip into a depression
Bringing an obsession
Of not learning lessons
Just getting high every second
I’m ****** in strife
Not living the examined life
Against a canon’s might
Loaded with grams of white
Shooting me high as a kite
So I can ignore my plight
Of having to fight
The murky waters shifted
Into my blood stream they drifted
I was euphoria gifted
Learning to be lifted
I became a hedonistic
Phenom misfit
Talking cryptic
And apocalyptic
I see the haughty led
Talking heads
As the walking dead
Stalking dread
They want me red
But their haunting bled
My arm instead
The only blood I shed
Is from my carnal bed
On the path I tread
A needle goes in
Blood comes out
I live in sin
I live in doubt
Looking for an escape route
I’m a cynical buyer
In a situation dire
Sick and tired
Stuck in fire
Becoming a liar
To get higher
Trust has disappeared
But I am still here
Filled with fear
Not knowing which way to steer
I try to act cavalier
To placate the cattle here
But I live in the saddest sphere
Even though I’m in the stratosphere
I see madness near
I can’t keep it civil
With my head on a swivel
Wearing the addict’s sigil
Track marks mean no acquittal
So subterfuge is pivotal
All communication is digital
When I have to hide my visual
I have no grace
I’m given no mercy
Every decision I face
Ultimately hurts me
Making me *****
From what I’m observing
And for what I’m deserving
Because of truth I’m deserting
To stay on the line I’ve been skirting
With death who’s been flirting
All I want is to binge
On the swamp in my syringe
On society’s fringe
Because once the ****** goes in
I can see heaven in hell
By ignoring the smell
Of where I dwell
In a euphoric shell
When all that remains
Is more of the same
I pray to the lord for rain
To wash my spirit away
So I can be a hero slain
Rather than singing a loser’s refrain
You pass these people everyday
They’re roadkill in the street
By the time you look in your rear view mirror
The vultures are back to eat
Gnawing their bones to defeat
Until they’re stripped of all meat
And their skin is baked in the heat
Their eyes melt staring into the sun
Once their blood is diluted by fun
So they can no longer be the one
Transmitting Jesus’ love
A lot of people
Say religion is evil
But I don’t need to go to a steeple
Or take a bunch of college classes
To learn opiates are the ****** of the masses
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC
In the ***** fields the red plant glows
Shining bright row by rows
Highlighting our opiates blight
Soldier by soldier I save tonight
Ease their pain do it right
For they may stray towards the light
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 1:38 PM UTC
Gracefully sliding down your silver skin
It leaves a waste of blackness
That zig zags like a corn maze
A flame sets you into motion
Giving off your sought after euphoria
Our bond is one not saught after
Yet its a connection I yearned for
Nights spent on the bathroom floor
With desperation and a fiendish itch
You were there as my comfort
With tears in my eyes and a stain on my pride
We floated off into a temporary retreat
Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 1:57 PM UTC
I live a breath's away from the oldest river in the world.
While I don't take much of nature in it is awe inspiring,
to be sure.
I live within the crook of the oldest mountains in our history.
Not the tallest,
nor the proudest,
but for now these ranges are growing senile within their misery.
The riverrun through it and exposes rock perhaps a billion years old.
Our oral histories, passed on legends,
scary stories and mountaineer folklore accounts for
such a small passage of time.
We built a bridge once.
It was at one time the longest single-span arch in the world.
Now it's the fourth.
Top five, and that's something for which I am proud.
The oldest river, in the world.
The oldest mountains, in the world.
The highest fatal overdose rate, in the States.
There is a beauty to be had here. Somewhat backwards, but
growing up our water was clear.
It's now choked from coal slurry.
The brain drain of young adults leaving, in much hurry,
hurts us as the ones that remain become grey and blurry.
We are living in a permanent winter and we have high roads,
that wind and curve. Dangerous when icy. veins filled with
heavy loads and nodding verve.
I live a breath's away from the oldest river in the entire world.
I can't touch Roman ruins with my hands, or
sift through the Dead Sea and float on salt above sand.
I can't touch the hill where Jesus may have died,
I don't know what it feels like to hold history as pride.
But our trees even when green have a dusty coal darkened sheen.
Summer is overgrowth from the Springtime rains.
The highest fatal overdose rate in the entire United States.
Where once we built bridges to close in the gap of travel.
We unzip black bags with rigs and object with obvious cavil.
Our industry is old, the world is moving on from coal.
For better, to be sure, but in the meantime we grow cold.
Not from lack of heat, we can boil our spoons just fine.
But we need a replacement from shaft or the mountaintop mine.
Let us worry about beauty again,
let us treat addiction with correction instead of levying it as sin.
Remove the pantomiming politician speak
of addicts or the sick as being weak.
Let's find ourselves again, West Virginia. You're the only home I've known.
Childhood summertimes sat beneath canopies of caterpillar home,
the happy baby butterflies eating leaves so more sun could shone.
Walking sticks used to play with me in my yard,
and at nighttime I'd still be outside mouth agape at the stars.
Evening meant lightning bugs and I'd capture a few in the cup of my hands.
There was a whimsy to how nature responded to us,
how bees would bumble and land,
on the dandelions whose seeds I'd spread as I blew on their white
polyp heads.
Maybe it's nostalgia and my memories are tinted rosy.
The smell of wood stoves burning in winter,
the crispness of autumn breezes felt cozy.
There was a trust held in communities, or maybe I was naïve.
Some of my friends made a choice and moved.
Others among us took a more permanent leave.
My brother, too. He himself got in a lot of trouble.
Over the cotton swab boiled to a bubble.
He died when I was young so maybe everybody is right.
It's all sentimentality and a lot of lonely nights.
But does the past being ****** up make the worsening now fine?
I live a breath's away from the oldest river and mountain range.
I live with the highest fatal overdose rate in the United States.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 7:19 AM UTC
The pain of leaving you is creeping in,
Am I detoxing the opiates in your skin?
My fractured heart is in its mould
Held together with hopes turned cold.
The time will come for it to thaw
And expose the damage from a love so flawed.
As it crumbles it will take its bow,
For it's only to blame for the state it's in now.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 4:13 PM UTC
I have awoken at an early hour, Early morning or earlier than I want, but the gathering has begun. It appears in clusters as they say, as the pain gently taps, almost an absent thought, but if not aware, taking over all focus or any thoughts beyond the pain. I see the dark on the other side of the blade as I look over the edge of the crevasse trying not to go too far into the depth of my pain. It has been many years with a dance of doctors, drugs, along with a little experimentation along the way. A form of self-imposed self-medication. Avoiding the dark on of that side is to avoid the doctor's opiates advise.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 6:21 AM UTC
You are so small, so petite
I could almost pluck you from this field of flowers and place you in my shirt pocket, just to see if you could possibly get any closer to my heart
I already feel you crawling from chamber to chamber
But **** if I could feel your physical touch inside my chest, would it really feel so different ?
You are so warm, so gentle, so sweet
Always fresh as a daisy
And your hands,
Always busy as bees
And your lips,
As if carved from rose petals,
Remain forever on mine
Because I cannot stay away
Opiates are nothing compared to you
But, alas, I am addicted
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 2:10 PM UTC
The sounds of church bells and the pleas of pastors saying "do not fear for God is near" echoes in my ears as i watch my father leave his temple to walk with the almighty.
The warmth of his hands began to fade into cold, and lifeless limbs i did not recognize.
Lingering sounds of a flat line accompanied by your voice of despair to let my father go.
That was when the first few petals fell.
Your vivacious smile accompanied by your long midnight hair was buried within the garden under the dead apple tree.
The whispers of silence were deafining to your ears as you wet your pillows with the taste of brandy on your lips and the black streaks ran down your cheeks.
The once so full flower was beginning to thin.
My hands turned cold as yours pulled away into those of another who was not my father.
A rose petal fell.
Time ceases to stop or slow down except when we are feeling melancholy.
But time with you was like taking roses off of a thorny bush with your bare hands; delicate and painful.
Just like you and i.
A child was left for the elders, but little did they know, she was an old soul.
I saw the sadness projecting through your eyes as you were trampled by this concept we call life.
I attempted to be of aid to you mother, but the demons wouldn't let go.
Little did i know your demons could wither a flower.
White oleander ran through your veins as you put those little white pills into your mouth.
A rose petal fell.
Then the day came where you were flying high. The sounds of white noise and tear drops hitting my skin haunt my dreams as i learned of the rose being taken away from me.
But did you know mother?
Did you forsee the quick end to a great future?
I did not; however, i knew there was not going to be much of a story to tell if you did not stop playing with the thorns.
But like a flower, you were delicate.
I guess that is where i get it from.
With every beautiful flower comes a root.
The last rose petal fell.
All that is left is a seed and thorns.
But to make a new flower, you only need the seeds.
A rose is like a Phoenix; the flower dies, but the seeds are reborn.
You left me with a seed of your life that i can use to continue to blossom into a beautiful rose like you.
And one day, my petals too will fall and wither.
But my flower wont be made weak with thorns, but strong with them.
The thorns i have will be my story even as my thorns watch my petals fall to the cold damp soil that is my pillow.
Every petal falling is a different ending.
Your rose died with you.
Just like my fathers died with him.
But my petals wont fall.
My petals will one day wither to only be replanted again.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 9:54 PM UTC
I have known this fool from half way through high school,
And the best part about it is watching the fool replace himself
With the will of gods that only exist in myths,
And the strength of a thousand dead martyrs.
And it's gonna get harder man, it's gonna get a lot harder-
But the longer you remain,
your bones will begin to hold the secrets
On how to **** your demons.
The longer you remain,
The endorphins will drift from your veins
And your soul will take their place.
In 2017, at this age,
What normal human being isn't coping with these societal traditions
By forcing their brain into addiction?
These are ancient laws of man, transcending modern knowledge.
Evolution made us capable of questioning our origin or divinity,
And some dare say that an imaginary man gave them this gift of sight;
Societal traditions to condition us into complacent perpetuation of the history that enslaves us.
Lately I haven't been able to hold one train of thought without
Going off the rails, but instead of crashing and burning,
I just travel at the speed of light around all the answers
that could be right.
Ultimately you inspired me to say
I am so proud that you are here today.
With my brothers wild spirit tamed by opiates,
He lingers on my bicep in memorial form
He lingers in the prayers I whisper to the dead,
As gods do not hear your prayers.
(they are too busy creating universes and
punishing their own creations
for acting out of free will)
My prayers are answered by people I know,
Whose physical forms met quietus.
They live on in otherworldly favors,
They live on in signs and vibes.
There is more to death than meets the eye.
Tangent after tangent,
I shall come to a close.
My brother was lost to needle and tar:
He passed away at the grocery store,
In the emptiness of his only car.
My friend, you are not lost
And you are still with us.
I'm so proud you now know the cost
Of instantaneous gratification offered by
The ****** drug.
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 4:04 PM UTC
I want to see your blue hole
That little spot of misery that you process alone. I jump out of my bed and come after you, you turn your head, this isn't something new, when I shuck off your clothes, just to get at your little blue hole. Some times we can't escape our peace, we can't find relief, I reopen my eyes just to see your face, my mouth works so hard, my hands beating against your legs, while we clamber back into your bed, and like the graves kept my monsters and thieves, there's not an acronym of you I'm not chasing after hedonistically. I'm that heathen for you that you've been grieving for me. And I'll take you down, to a little place outside of town. Where no one we know has been. Don't forget me. Don't forget please.
Tuesday at sundown we awoke by the beach, on a colorful blanket I'd stole from Walgreens. "I might throw up! I've got bubble gut, and period pains. These mosquito bites are driving me insane! Won't somebody shoot me?! Shoot me in the head?! Make the itching stop?! Take this nausea away?! Just don't forget me....don't forget me!" If it's been twelve hours I'll take my sublingual please. Can we look for rocks? Agates, Jaspers, and things? Maybe some green sea glass we can use to make ourselves some rings? "You're taking off?" No. I'm flying steep. It's the reason my eyes grow wide, the reason I'm sweating. If my imagination is a game, our true romance is my campaign. I'm winning right? I'm getting points, I'm swimming right? These furry limbs are all over me, just when you shout and remind me, to stop moving-
We climb back to the bed, and cuddle instead. I wrap my hands tightly around your head, and whisper soft. I whisper to you, "Please don't leave to go into the little blue hole too." "I'll never leave you." "I'll never leave you, you say." "If we're real lucky we'll die on the same day." I hope it happens that way, just don't die on me first. Otherwise I'll totally go berserk. Don't leave me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me, or forget about me. Don't forget about meee-e-e please.
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 2:33 AM UTC
a mention
of drug
addicts will
leave then
a shame
of toxic
trash in
their deciduous
mouths teething
inure if
even children
in their
swabs but
otherwise protect
their ****
from this
adolescent crisis
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 5:23 AM UTC
Fly high!
That's what they'll say,
after you wreck your car
and spill your brains.
They won't know--
or maybe they will.
****** tomb,
disguised as "wonderful daughter,
great friend."
Everyone has earplugs,
blindfolds too.
The epidemic is supplying
some for you.
Russian roulette
has some competition.
This ain't some new
invention...
Nobody cares--
it's not them.
Nobody cares--
unless it's them.
But it's too late by then.
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 5:46 PM UTC
I'm just a nut job
hiding behind a blank stare
you can find me
almost anywhere.
I smile and I laugh
in front of your face.
I hide in a bathroom,
creating my fate.
This powder controls my day,
I'll love you once it's made its way...
up my nose, through my bloodstream
into my brain...
I'll love you once it's made its way...
I'll love you once it's made its way...
I'll love you once I feel okay...
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 9:57 PM UTC