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CryBaby Di Nov 2018
Sometimes you just have to accept the things that you cannot change.
Like, you can compulsive lie your *** off but it still cannot change what is true.
They say that the truth is the
hardest pill to swallow,
so instead I crush it up and I snort it.  
Even if there were things that I could change I fear I'll just make it even worse,
so I mission abort ****.
I lack the ability to actually change me,
and my courage is cowardly.
I'm hopeless, but I really do hope
that things will hurt less.
I'm useless, but I don't think that
I'll ever use less.

If not this, then it would be that.
It's all relative Nonsense where overall
you were just another substance.
But who am I to deprive misery of
its love for company,
honestly how could I possibly
maintain stability and be granted
any serenity, when all that is
surrounding me and inside of me is constant insanity ?..

Yeah, it's called Drug Abuse,
but is the term "Drug Abuse"
and the overall meaning behind it
really that simple ?..
In which being limited to the technical bottom line meaning and stating that by doing drugs you are abusing those drugs.
Where in other words the users
are apparently the abusers of the drugs that they use,
but isn't it possible that the drugs
actually abuse us too ?..
You came fast into my life
Like a roller coaster
Told me that you want me
But all you did was abusing my soul
Took my innocence
Took all my friends
Took all the good in me
Now you're gone too
Left me all alone in the darkness
My heart was shaking
When I thought about you
Now the pain is gone
Because I don't care about you.

Muhammed Emin KUŞASLAN
You can check out my other poetries from there.
has been appreciated
      over centuries
proven by epigrams and haikus

but the technology
      of our time
has made it mandatory
to express yourself
     in as few words as possible

in order to save
      space & time
on smartphone screens
throughout the world

no matter how transmogrified
     thinking may have become
by this enforced simplicity

complexity of thought
has gotten out of fashion
and even nations‘ leaders
have fallen back
on simple black & white
intentionally abusing
the KISS principle
KISS principle:
Aditi Sep 2017
(... And i like you.)

We never tire
Of trying to fit everyone
Into the shape of voids
Our hearts have carved

And that's fine.

It's still not something I'd do to you.

(..And i like you)

Love has made a ghost
Out of the best of us
And we anchor to the memories
To save our entities.

And honestly who am i to judge?

But you knock new air into my dead, dusty lungs

(..And i like you)

We ache,
And we mould our ache into arts.
Abusing and devouring  love,
Like scorched land tasting the first rain drop.

And I'm one of the many inked hearts.

I would leave my pen though, you make me want to.

(..And i like you)

We all have been loved,
And we all have been lonely,
Some of us feel the presence,
More when it starts to ebb.

And I've always felt myself overstaying my welcome, even before arrival.

But I'd leave my pieces on your door, as an excuse for you to call me.

(..And i like you)

We are always
looking for a replacement.
Disguising our sadness with a new skin
Trading one addiction for another; a vicious cycle.

All these temporary fixes and the perpetual sadness.

But you could be a detour from this dead-end I'm leading to.

(And i like you.)

Fistful of mosaic desires,
Confessions barely held in by my teeth
Future is easier to swallow than salvage
Your intoxicated lips smirk in agreement.

All these loving hearts with eyes askance.

But something tells me if i showed you my palm, you'd understand.

(..And i like you)
Will probably take a while to acknowledge the voice in my head saying (...And i like you) or i can keep ignoring it, even if it's the most obvious thing.
Tufayl Myburgh Nov 2017
You were so good at that ****.

You truly made me feel like I was special like I was the one.

You made me feel like you really needed me.

I felt as though I was the light of your life, I really did.

For some reason you made it look like you enjoyed every single second I was around like I fulfilled some kind of ****** up desire of yours.

You took everything inside me and burnt it into the ground until there was nothing left, yet, you seemed so okay with that as if it benefit you somehow.

You were at peace with using me and abusing me.

What felt like an eternity of time between us was probably more like seven minutes in real time.

Even after all of that you walked away with regret,

they say it takes 21 days to kick a habit but girl I could see it in your eyes you wished you could have gotten rid of me far sooner.

You got exactly what you wanted from me, and once you were satisfied, you threw me onto the ground and crushed me,

Like a cigarette.
Thanks to an awesome friend of mine who urged me to write this one.
Cristi Sep 2017
There is nothing more
            that I wish
                        than to not
                                    feel like this.

The frustrations and sorrows
That fill me to the brim
Overwhelm me, eventually engulfing
My inner-self and my will

That always come second
To the weapon of my choosing
Now becoming dull
As I continue this self-abusing

In this battle versus the world,
I'm the one that's losing
Not the demons that found shelter inside of me
That kick their feet up
While they're cruising

But my gentle nature
Seemed to welcome them with open arms
Please help me,
When will I know when to sound the alarms?

What if I'm not meant to be
The hero in my own story?
I was never one to boast,
Or seek any type of glory

I just hoped to be a good girl
With graceful sensuality
But all society ever seems to worry about is
Finishing your ******* degree

My soul is hurting,
Can you see that I'm aching
In places that his hands explored
But weren't his for the taking?

I can't see clearly,
And my voice keeps breaking
I'm holding my own mouth
Because my lips won't stop shaking

It's affecting my breathing, my chest hurts
It's all heartbreaking
Especially seeing yourself lose
White flag waving above you

The darkness now overtaking
After a very mentally exhausting day, I wrote this with a rap vibe to it.
Jay Apr 2018
when you told me to be flattered
for being someones crush
while patching me up in the classroom
you taught me to mistake violence
for love
for affection  

constantly forcing me beside him
in hope that i might calm him down
taught me that his need for being comforted
was worth more
than my need to be safe

when you asked me to keep my no in for just a little while longer
you taught me to shrink my vioce to make room for others
and that my opinion
caused more discomfort
than his actions

and still
after all years of printing that in
you got the nerve to expect me to
loudly state no
and walk away from an abusing man
who use all those expression of love and affection
you taught me
to forgive
I never did know when to shut my mouth,
So I guess it’s no shock to feel it smarting against your back handed swing,
But to be honest, I bet it hurt you more, does it sting?
Can you feel it in your bones ?
Copper taste against my tongue,
I’m choking on my own blood,
Does my manic laugh horrify you?
This Cheshire smile plastered across my face,
Do my cheekbones slice your knuckles?

That’s going to leave a bruise,
Not that you care,
Twisted my head back by my hair,
My body is peppered in greens, purples, blues,
But with the way you turn your head down you’d think I was the one abusing you,
When you wrap your meaty fingers around my windpipe does it give you pleasure?
What goes through your mind while your holding my life in your hands,
How many of my ribs have you cracked upon your feet,
Only to lick my thighs later like a treat,
One of these days it’ll be my fingers around your neck,
And I won’t stop squeezing till your dead,
Until then use my body to your hearts content,
This dangerous dance,
Like egg shells beneath my soles,
I’m waiting for you to slip on the blood you painstakingly draw from me blow by blow,
And in your own sick way you actually love me,
Convinced the only way to save me is to hurt me,
But I’m not that sick or twisted to believe the words you croke out,
One day very soon it’ll be you who shouts,
Ya I never did know when to shut my mouth,
So I guess it’s no shock to feel it smarting against your back handed swing.
If anyone was triggered by the nature of the poem , please accept my apology. Domestic abuse is very serious  and not something I take lightly.  

1 (888) 579-2888

Above is a Canadian victim services hotline.

If your in a bad situation please seek help.
Krystal Alvarez Oct 2018
I don't want to be your addiction.

Irresistably a sin

A crime of passion was committed.

Like a drug I'm in again

Strung out and codependent

Barely standing

All alone

I don't want to be your addiction

Give up and just go home.

There's always someone waiting

Another lie rolls off your tongue

You hide all the evidence well

No one knows I'm the drug you've done.

There are no scars to be noticed

No track marks on your skin

Perhaps a few scratches on your back

Just from my fingers digging in.

I don't want to be your addiction

To be the reason for all your lies

But I know you'll never stop abusing... me

I can see it in your bloodshot eyes.
alexa j l Apr 12
do you regret it?
abusing your soul with a drink
“just one won’t hurt”
isn’t that how you think
one turned into four
then five and six and seven
did you ever stop to think
your next paradise was heaven
Alicia Dunn Apr 5
All of the distaste
For the life of disgrace

An unloving mother,
One helpless little brother

An abusing father
The eldest daughter

The poor family falls
As the devil calls

We’re falling down
Here is your crown

You’re the queen of despair
The world so unfair

you lock your lips
As you cut your hips

Your blood will stain
As your tears rain

Protecting your little brother
As the hits go to you, and your mother

Drunkenness takes your father
You tell yourself you’re not his daughter

Stuck in this rut
All you can do is cut

But life tries to make you drown
As the bath water begins to surround

One breath, two breath, three breath, four
Sadly your lungs don’t work anymore
One friend told me this was her life, now she is doing much better, I wish she hadn’t moved away but this sadly was her life for 8 years of her life
Denise Uy Sep 2018
The rope I'm gripping tightly have
taut fibers twined around each other.
I wove them that way, meticulously.
One string after another, its form gathers,
and I'm proud of my craft.

I've used it to save myself and others,
pulling and tying knots, anchoring.
A tightrope to dance on over and over,
Tugging, stretched, fighting, breaking,
but my rope's getting slippery.

I've used it so much it's hard to hold on.
It's overused and now

Only a matter of time before I can cut it
without effort,
just one scissor,
and it's no more.

I'll tie it back together but I can only try so hard.
It's wearing down, going gone.
It withers and soon I'll have none.
Nothing to save me, or them
if I start abusing it again.
I need a break.
JP Dec 2018
It's like dragging
a woman in our thought
and abusing her..
Michael Marchese Nov 2018
But the sun doesn't shine
Upon me
As it used to,
Feel so attached to
My precious devices
And harnessing its
Divine potency
Just to see
Seems as if I'm
Disregarding its poetry
Blind to abusing its glow
To be shown
An ephemeral glimpse
Of some remnant of home
But its spark does not energize
My own creations
Just sates them with meager
Technology rations
And hooks me to wires
And cables
Like playthings
Tompson Apr 26
I do this thing every time
I spend months doing just fine
Partying, abusing drugs, having a great time
But then I realized
But then something kicks my mind
And now I spending months inside of the house
Speaking with the demons who lives inside
Not the house
They were there all the time
Even when I was doing just ******* fine
They are now tired of the good times
I let them command my mind
My days are now dark
I'm just waiting for they say the words
So we can finally leave the lights
For the whole eternity

I'm just tired of this whole ******* *******
Repeating all those ******* years
Like If I was a ******* drama queen  
The demons has come to ******* save me
Najwa Kareem Jun 2018
They're chasing this dollar bill
even it means compromising their beliefs and morals
even if it means lowering the status of their souls
even if it means hurting and not really caring about their own children
even if it means abusing them

They're chasing this dollar bill and they like the taste of this dollar bill
They want to taste it every day
They like what they can do with this dollar bill so they chase it every day
They don't realize how much of a slave they are to this dollar bill, nor will they admit to their slavery

They don't care if their chasing this dollar bill means more single sisters in the world
They don't care if it means mostly sisters are running many civil, Islamic, and Muslim organizations even though their husbands' contributions are desperately needed
Even if their children need their strength and their sons need role models and need and want to look up to them
Even if their children do not know how to read Quran and understand its meanings so they grow up stable, on solid footing, and bullet-proofed from all of the dangerous threats coming at them every day
They're chasing this dollar bill

They imitate their fathers chasing this dollar bill
Some want to out do their fathers in pursuit of this dollar bill
Some want to out do their fathers who failed in pursuit of the dollar bill
Some want to out do their fathers who succeeded in pursuit of the dollar bill
Some want to out do their fathers who care less about chasing this dollar bill
They're chasing this dollar bill

The culture says if one is a man, he's supposed to be chasing this dollar bill
If he wants to be a man, he has to keep chasing the dollar bill
To be successful, have a perpetual plan on chasing the dollar bill
Advertisements, subliminal messages suggesting they need more things
They need more to be happy
They're chasing this dollar bill

They didn't get what they wanted when they were growing up. Now they can with this dollar bill
They had a frugal parent. Now they can be reckless. They're chasing this dollar bill
They had a cheap car in high school and in college. Not anymore. Luxury now only on wheels. They're chasing this dollar bill

Buying their children the name brand shoes they didn't have as children; Living vicariously makes up for a lot; Living vicariously fills up the holes
They're chasing this dollar bill

This dollar bill gets them the beautiful girl or so they think or at least temporarily
Finally they feel like somebody chasing this dollar bill

Their sons need to learn about chastity so they learn to respect God, themselves, and girls and to understand the value, beauty, and protection of experiencing *** and intimacy in marriage
Time is money. They're chasing this dollar bill

Young girls sitting in the classroom dressed looking like hookers and hoes and boys expected to focus on the teacher and their school work; Keep their eyes down and not call the girls, and not flirt with them, and not want to sleep with them or not go home with them. God on the other hand is covered up and no one is teaching kids who they are but the expectation is that they will know God and know themselves 
They're chasing this dollar bill

The oppressed need people to advocate for them. There are tons of homeless on the street. They're chasing this dollar bill

The ones around them who call themselves friends not really being friends to them.
Their friends don't ask them What's up with you? Where are your priorities? Re-evaluate your priorities man. What's really behind all this chasing? I want to see you in heaven with me hopefully. I want to share in it with you. I care about you.

Instead their friends compliment them on their chasing this dollar bill
Their friends admire them chasing the dollar bill
Their friends edge them on to chase harder, chase more
Their friends get puffed up being associated with friends chasing this dollar bill
Their friends copy them chasing the dollar bill so they too have a taste of the dollar bill
Their friends compete with them chasing the dollar bill

They want to keep up with the Jones's running after the dollar bill, tripping and stumbling along the way trying not to let others see
They're chasing this dollar bill

I don't understand
It makes no sense to me
Why they're chasing this dollar bill to such a degree

It's clear to me. They're out of their right mind. That's what chasing this dollar bill can do to thee

They are on a chasing-this-dollar-bill frenzy
Their daughters need them to teach them more about hijab. Some of them wearing no hijab leaving them more of a target for hungry boys and a closet full of valuables with no sign on the outside reading "Private"; Not for you to touch. Not your property. Not your valuables
What does that matter. They're chasing this dollar bill

Boys and men tempted by their daughters without hijab to imagine what their daughters' private parts sizes might be; What the sight of their nakedness could be
What they could do with their private parts
Their daughters need to learn their value and their worth from their fathers, fathers who are chasing this dollar bill

A human life investment or a temporary monetary investment...Where do they invest their time
It's an easy answer - They have no time...they're chasing this dollar bill

The community needs building but their homes need upgrading
They're chasing this dollar bill

My heart is heavy. I don't feel well
I'll keep talking about it. Even if I puke
I'll keep writing

They say women follow men. That's exactly what they are doing
They too are chasing this dollar bill

And we're all weaker because of it

If money strengthens, why are we weak
Why are our men weak
Why are our women frail  


They're chasing this dollar bill

They're chasing this dollar bill
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