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#stimulant
Can't sleep. Wakeful for days. The pain starts. Thought I could beat it. Thought again, wrong as ever. The consequences take form shortly after my mistakes. Already too far behind me. Already flown through. My frantic fingers tremble, trying to close. Reliable depression. Shuffle. Shuffle my feet. Long dark streets. Pit stops in bars for drinks in smoke. Cigarettes. Cigars. Like I'd ever find love tucked in such slow dives. If stimulants may save me, I'll smoke some more **** Against the outside building, heart open. I hear your quiet words. Over the traffic. Over the clubs. Their lines. For once I follow the feeling. Not shy away. The music singing from hidden lips. I must see them.
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Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 1:25 AM UTC
The Drama of Miriam Marcus: She Got a Reaction
I sit down in tweak town To jot down a new noun, A nice verb, a poetic sound, But all that comes out Is blah blahs, and doubt. There’s not enough coffee, To help satisfy me, As long as I compare myself, To everybody else. So here in caffeine city, The poetry is witty. Every verse excites me. Ever line invites me, To be better. Speed is my muse, As long as I let her. A nicotine lozenge, Four milligram a piece, Helps me stay awake, Until, I am allowed to sleep; Helps me to stay alert, Helps me write this verse, But in the end The zzzz will hit me worse. I guess, I should have just gone to bed Instead.
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Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 6:09 PM UTC
Speedy
consume endless stimulants anything to get through this lifeless eyes with sunken souls tucked away in hidden holes the hands on the clock do a full rotation returning then surpassing their first location alternating breaks between coffee and bogies i sit on the floor, my effort withholding breathe in, breathe out, inhale deep i know not about counting sheep a few more bodies tough it out "we are the champions," i want to shout and i'm delusional, so i just might tell this empty room about my sleepless night
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Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 8:47 AM UTC
Comically Conclusive Catechisms
*I wish to make you happy, before I put another smile upon my face. as you see me now, broken down and weak, like when you're at the end of a cigarette. i'll rise from the ashes as if new again, just this time I'll be better. ready to fix your problems, not just fill the void, I am not just going to be a stimulant, to you darling, I'm here to let you vent, tell me what's wrong, I wish to make you happy, I want to see you happy,* even when I can't.
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Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
Happy.
I sit down in tweak town To jot down a new noun, A nice verb, a poetic sound, But all that comes out Is blah blahs, and doubt. There’s not enough coffee, To help satisfy me, As long as I compare myself, To everybody else. So here in caffeine city, The poetry is witty. Every verse excites me. Every line invites me, To be better. Speed is my muse, As long as I let her. A nicotine lozenge, Four milligram a piece, Helps me stay awake, Until, I am allowed to sleep; Helps me to stay alert, Helps me write this verse, But in the end The zzzz will hit me worse. I guess, I should have just gone to bed Instead.
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
Speedy
(An experimental piece) Dark coffee overdrive Give it to me hot or ice cold with cream or pure midnight black reality it seems to speed by it's so fast I don't even have to try I am stimulated excited trembling brave and ready but even coffee pales to what you do to me when you wear that dress
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
Dark Coffee Overdrive
I remember the little men in big boots. The ones who sat at the edge of roof tops in a city called Loneliness, and cut their teeth while chewing jagged glass and angry truths. They parachuted down to earth and hit their heads on desperation. Hollowed out hearts with tree trunks serving as legs, they marched across the stratosphere until their existences neared zero. Nothing more to disappearing than popping some pills, falling asleep, and dreaming that the whole world had gone mad. The interesting part is when you wake up and you can still hear the echo of unfilled boots.
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
xanax