Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I'm not quite sure how addiction grabbed me
I picked it up slow but it grew so vastly
Started with *****
which turned to puffs, powder and pills
both downs and ups
  I'd have one in my hand
two more in my pocket
effects don't matter
just want to skyrocket
Please, take me away
to the places of unknown
help me escape
sober feelings, I've outgrown
No happy soul
been broken to pieces
the puzzle repairs
each time the **** hits
Hiding away
from both friends and family
deny every time
so please stop asking
A boy, once joyous
now fell from grace
peace of mind only comes
from numbing his face
No pride, sheer shame
pure feelings of failure
thoughts run wild'
Will it all end here?'
Partners in crime
now long deceased a harsh realization
of succumbing to the beast
Praying for help and
pleading for power
rise and prevail
stop trying to cower
There's a want and a need
plus strong will to succeed
to turn life around
since devoured by disease
Now I stand here humbled
with apologetic eyes
for my selfish acts
under a life self prescribed.
she was like
        a wilting flower
drained of all things
that kept the others upright

he was like
        a rushing brook
who saw her crumpled and tired,
crowded by overgrown weeds,
and wanted nothing more
than to clear the earth around her
and see her bloom again

so he took all he had
        and poured it into her
and when finally the pinkness
had returned to her cheeks
        she looked back at him
        and saw that

he was now like
        a withering shrub
frail and planted in dry clay

and despite the deep conviction
she had in her heart to restore him
        like he had restored her
all of her best efforts
left her with with exposed roots
and dirt beneath her fingernails

he wouldn’t let her stay
        to continue to try
        to quench his thirst
so she left him with a watering can
and promised he’d soon find relief
your name is always
on the tip of my tongue
and if you
wrap me in a blanket
and place me by the fire,
in the flames
i'll see your smile,
but if i blink
it'll disappear
because our time
while full, was fleeting
and now you are just
dandelion seeds
in the summer breeze
that will land
in another yard
to make someone else's
wishes come true
I look down at my palette, and see the paints melting together.
I remember when we were like that,
colouring the canvas with life.
You were the deep, dark blue of an ocean at night,
and I was the grey of clouds.
You brought vividness to me,
and turned my dull hue to vibrance.
So how did we get like this?
The painter’s brush mixed us too far,
turning our kaleidoscope into a jumbled mess.
Murky brown, and unusable,
unable to be separated.
We’ve become so close our colours have merged
and we are no longer separates.
Wherever I go I take some of you with me.
Dragged across the canvas behind me,
like an afterthought.
The trail of a comet.
A past that will never really leave me
because by now it’s a part of me.
It’s second nature
to think of you when my mind wanders
and to reach for your hand without thought.
You’ve changed me forever
and I can never go back
to a time before you
before us.
But why would I want to?
I built a Berlin Wall around my heart.
Not to keep others out,
but to keep myself in.
I built the walls higher
until no light could get in
and I stayed there.
I may have been alone
but at least I was safe.
Safe from you and your sugar coated words and electric touch.
Protected from the lies that seeped from between your lips,
and god, just your lips.
I kept myself away from your impish charm and devilish smile.
I had to,
I couldn’t let you in
Because when you broke me the first time
I could hardly manage
to pick up the fragments
and build them into something that at least resembled the girl I had been before.
A shell of what it was.
I added armour.
Heavy chainmail to keep me away from your beckoning embrace.
Was it worth it?
I’m not sure.
But the over flow of emotions
that I swam through every time I saw you
was drowning me.
So I built a raft and let it take me away.
I put myself here but now I’m trapped,
stuck in my own mind and stuck in my own heart.
It’s a terrible place to be.
Trust me,
you wouldn’t want to be here with me.
My hands are trembling, heartbeat almost tempted to stop.
I'm not strong enough to hear your screams.
But you're just clawing your way to the top.
Do you see me shake when you walk by?
The fear that strikes deep in my eyes?
The thought of you tortures me at night, I toss in turn in my dreams trying to put up a fight.
Your sinful essence covers the room.
Walking like you own it and everyone's been waiting for you.
Do you see me run? Do you see me hide?
I'm not the only one you're hurting, this is soulful suicide.
You can't bribe me, I know how you lie.
You can't save me, there's no redemption in your life.
I'm ******* dying as you sit and watch me cry!
Come back to who you were and everything will be alright.
Prove you're not crazy, put down your words like knives.
Authenticity, that you are truly humane.
Show me you remember only human souls have a name.
Scream yours to the wind, don't strike out one more time.
I swear your heart is empty, but maybe I'm not right.
This is your last chance, don't put up a fight.
You may have lost a daughter, but you can always save your life.

Father quickly follows, you choose more fate than your own.
Don't feed into the hate you seen, make a break it's do or die.
In the morning she stumbles out of bed,
Gets ready for the day with a brain full of dread.
Sixteen hours of torture and hatred and malice
And then, back to bed where it fades into blackness.

She covers her scars with pants and a sweater.
She wishes that somehow her life could get better.
She walks out of the door with her head down low.
Her “friends” pass her by without a hello.

At lunch (twelve hours left) she sit quietly and pretends
she doesn't exist, she does her best to simply blend.
She's home (eight more hours), still working through the stress
of another day gone, and her life's still a mess.

Homework, then dinner and being brave
for her family.  She smiles while hoping for the grave.
"Four more hours, and then I can sleep."
That's what she thinks when she's trying not to weep.

With one hour left, she pulls out the blade
Her spirit is broken.  Her skin is frayed.
As tears mix with blood, sleep doesn't come.
One hour turns to three or four and then some.

The sleepless night turns to morning, and it's time to start again.
Sixteen more hours of hopelessness filling her head.
“One more day,” she whispers to herself.
She does it every morning, puts her self-hatred on the shelf.

She goes through the cycle, still wishing for dying
but makes it through fifteen hours without even crying.
Until one day, she's numb with nothing to feel.
It's like watching a movie.  It's all so unreal.

Now, she cuts not in sadness, worry, or strife.
She cuts to bring feeling back into her life.
She paints scars on her skin like an artist at work.
She welcomes the pain, like a friend, with a smirk.

Death is not her goal, but would she really care
if one day she was finally broken beyond repair?
Next page