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Sabrina Smith May 2013
When I hear him talk to her,
I crave for a cigarette in between my lips.
When I see them walking together,
I crave to drown in a bottle of whiskey.
When I feel her presence,
I crave for the cool metal of a loaded gun.

But how strange that
I’ve never smoked a cigarette,
or drank whiskey,
or pulled a trigger.

But the urges
are one of an addict.
And at this moment
I’m not really sure if I’m me anymore,
Because I’ve become addicted to things that I’ve
never even done before.

I know I’m not an addict,
there is no way I could be an addict,
But ******* I could use a cigarette right now.
The shopping channel calls to me
It wakes me up at night
To sell me things I do not need
Nor would buy, if I was right
But apparently, there's something wrong
My brain should be re-wired
I only purchase things on here
When I am really over-tired
I have a room specifically
For things bought on TV
I've ginsu knives and shredding blades
And juicers!!!...ninety three!!
For some reason the kitchen things
Just seem to catch my eye
Especially at three a.m.
That's the time I need to buy
I've magic bullets by the score
Processors,  I don't need
But, if I ever put them all to use...
An army I could feed
I've got socks for diabetics
Things to make your ******* stand out
I've got exercise machines galore
I've got three things that help gout!
My credit card's at the limit
I know the numbers off by heart
The post man knows me by my name
I even have my own **** cart
To deliver all my purchases
They just load it and deliver
It almost comes here by itself
It's enough to make one shiver
I don't know how it started
I think the countdown clock...ah, yes
I thought it meant the game was ending
I phoned in and bought a dress!!!
I've got jewellery by Joan Rivers
George Foreman grills...they fill my den
I've got perfumes for the women
And lots of things that make you men!
My wife cannot contain me
She's sent me off to get some aid
But, if they sell it on the telly
I'll buy it sure as getting laid
I've bedazzled all my clothing
I eat dried fruit and jerky too
I get Christmas cards from Ronco
I'm a shopping ****** through and through
Each month we have a garage sale
I sell off some of what I've bought
But, then I go and buy it back again
Without a second thought
My friends have all but left me
I rarely go out of the house
I just sit here and go shopping
I don't even see my spouse
Set it and Forget it
That's a phrase I love to say
But wait, there's more...is another one
That helps me through the day
I used the last one on my wife
One night while having ***
She told me "Set it and Forget It"
I'm off to dreamland Tex!!
My shopping's an addiction
One I hope to beat some day
But now, the operator says...
I have to get my card and pay!
Joshua Phelps Feb 2017
The world around me is revolving slowly
While the people surrounding move faster & faster
As I am caught in between the fibers of time

Why am I here?
Do I even belong?

My only therapy is the songs I hear in my head.
My only medication is the drugs that make me wish I were dead.

I'm just a shell of my former self.
I'm not what I used to be.

It seems there's no resolution,
only an empty cell waiting for me in this institution.

Dear diary, please help me now.

There's only so much abuse I can inflict upon myself.

The cuts on my wrist, the empty bottle of pills
The lacerations on my fist, shaking from the anger still.

I've got my fix, each line getting me higher.
The only answer getting more apparent, as my lows keep climbing to the ladder.

My sanity escaping.
Depression creeping
As the ghost of death takes over me.

Oh diary, it seems it's goodbye to you and me.
It seems no matter what I do, the world isn't going to accept me.

I'll never belong.

I'll always be different.

Goodbye and goodnight.

I'll see you on the other side.

----------------------------

Dear diary, I'm an addict.

Yesterday was proof of concept.

Tomorrow is a death wish.

If I don't do something now,
I may never get to see the light of day.

Dear diary, please help me now.

Because I can't do this alone anymore.
I had a stint with drugs in 2012.

I felt like killing myself.

Now I know life is worth so much more.
Keah Jones Nov 2015
Delilah baby I can feel the weight of you in my arms.

I can feel my k to z love for you and see how that laugh of yours makes people cry
and how that smile pierces my heart because it looks just like his did.

I can feel the sun kissing each one of our toes as we sit overlooking the grand canyon in the kaleidoscope sunset.
your spider fingers are wrapped in my hair like a plea to never be left alone
your spindle legs are all knobby kneed and pale entwined with mine.

baby he left me not you.

I was a hurricane and he loved you too much to look

afraid that one glance and he'd be head over heels reeling out of control
like you were the drug and he was the addict.

they say everything happens for a reason and you are my reason.

Delilah baby you are the here and the now of forever.
the stop sign on the corner is an obstacle for street racers but its a godsend because its just enough of a pause for me to kiss you between the eyes.

and I can't ever finish anything so this story isn't complete

and at the top of the pass where the air is clear enough if we sing loud enough maybe he will hear us and remember who he left behind.
Jack Thompson Sep 2015
Today I openly admit that I am an addict.
I've been Addicted to the sensation and lost in the lullaby.
I've watched my potential dwindle thin.
I've had an overwhelming desire to get clean but no drive to begin.

I've cried my nights away in a withdrawal of sorts.
I've given up on everything except my last resort.

My vice is the most expensive out there.
What does a life cost?
What does a wasted life cost?

The regrets of yesterday catch you faster than you can sleep them away.
When apathy runs deep in your veins.
Pulling at my last straw - my last tall claim.

Today I turned my life around.
Not just another nudge for me to yo-yo.
I've derived a focus and approached my limit.

I'll sweat blood until I'm free of this apathy.
A victim of my actions in this endless tragedy.


My name's Jack and I'm an addict.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Harsh Dec 2014
I’m an addict

and

it’s all your fault.

There’s
a comfort
that your skin carries

it’s...
overwhelming.

It’s an aphrodisiac, it’s an anesthetic.

I’m addicted to your touch

I’m intoxicated by your embrace

The side effects?

I feel a shuddering in my bones,
my every muscle relaxing,
almost collapsing.

My breath slows to a light drag,
my thoughts become just as soft as your lovely skin.
My every worry is drawn away,
anxiety flows out of my veins.

This is symbiosis;
I release my emotional toxins
and you bestow upon me this ethereal comfort.

Laying between your legs,
my head caressed by your thighs,
my head above your ***,
and my arms wrapped about your gorgeous form,
I get my fix.

I’m an addict, my dear,

just

please don’t send me away.
I crave those evenings we spend together where I just lie down atop you
Saturday Jones Jun 2015
Working this hellish job,
I come up for air, but I'm barely surfacing.
I can barely see through the fog.

I did not show up for the circus.
I did not answer the call.
I mean look at me; I'm a person.

I'm just trying to decide here.
I'm trying to make up my mind.
Should I even attempt resurfacing?

Or hold my head under water permanently?
Like an addict, I want to die.
I was not prepared for this circus.

I'm not going to pay for these.
Working this hellish job,
I look at the sky, "Have mercy on me."

Your employee rhetoric is not working on me.
I think it's curtain call.
How could I forget you were a serpent?

They said it was for a good purpose.
Can we please press pause?
Is this movie even worth it?

Is this microphone even working?!
Can you read these words at all?!!
All quiet on the western front...

I think somebody spiked the punch.
Like a candle, I want to die.
I mean look at me; I'm a person.

I need something I can touch.
Like a candle, I burn alive.
Like an addict, I burn alive.

Like an addict, I burn inside.
Like an addict, this IS urgent!
Like an addict, I burn high.

Who put me down for the circus?!
I wanted to sit on a log and watch
the ripples on the surface.

But I can barely see through the fog.
I mean look at me; I'm a person, and I
work a hellish job.
K Alexys Sep 2015
From my traumas was born a feeling.
A desire that came way too early.
Curiosity introduced pleasure.
And once it was found, control was beyond measure.
If I told you I was so young that I hadn't yet even shaved,
Yet I was touching myself under my desks back in third grade.
Wanting the attention of a boy,
Wanting to be wanted to feel loved and enjoyed.
Progression through time had me messaging all these guys,
They wanted me and I wanted that and as time went by,
Messages turned to descriptions and those turned into pictures,
The guys turned into men and there were so many of them.
I don't know if I love to please or if I just love them wanting me,
But I have to do it and I can't control it,
Who has been through this who really knows it?
Abuse made it worse because I wanted to be loved.
First time having *** was the first hit of my drug.
I couldn't stop there I had to have more.
I didn't want their time I really just wanted to score,
Like I had no respect or I had no beliefs,
Just giving myself to the people who deeply attracted me.
I would get aroused looking at someone and my mind would begin to imagine.
And of course the next day with a stranger you know what happened.
And i never felt ashamed i felt great i felt so happy.
I had to do it again until i did and it felt ******.
It got worse,
I couldn't say no.
Like my mind wanted to stay but my body made me go.
I even have to do it when I'm all alone,
*** is my addiction
you'd think i wanna quit but I don't.
It's a problem, it really is,
It's dangerous and I know.
But I can't help myself and I can't get enough
Aaron McDaniel Oct 2012
I’ve been labeled with a term that begins with P and ends with oet
But I owe it to to those listening to explain the steps I’ve taken
225 days of mistaken tippy toes and battles fought arresting a demon to keep him caged thirsty
He stays thirsty
Drips of thick liquid that bring cure to others make his body sick but his mind goes at ease
The random shocks of pain that jolt throughout my body telling me to get more is a reminder that this struggled battle will never be over
This devil on my shoulder is whispering terms of endearment while the angel is tirelessly hanging off my biceps trying to whisper his words of truth
There’s no other way around it
I live by the standard ‘once an addict always an addict’
I am an addict
Before that fact jumps down your throat to join the heart that jumped up in it, let me explain
Addicts like me work long *** days breaking their back to break bread and emerge victorious in their ocean of mistakes
Instead of treading H20, it’s theraflu and pepto,
I used to be drowning but now I’m only waist deep
Slowly, day by day, the drain taking it away makes the level of pepto low
Soon, maybe I’ll be able to say I’m in a puddle getting my tippy toes wet in OTC’s
Then it’ll dry
My tongue shall stay dry
Like that of the demon that stays
Caged
Thirsty
Waiting for a day that my mentality meets frustration so great that I’m attempted to sling that syrup down my throat so suddenly that my stomach acid is left in wonder
Silently slipping into a comatose state that no soul may recover from
To prevent this, I’ll pin praying hands to my nose and speak to a God that I’m not even sure is listening
As I apologize from straying away from the path he’s set for me, I’ll look forward and realize that the hurting is gone
Indeed, more will come
But there is no fear in these eyes
My mother’s soft touch on my shoulder
Friends cementing their hands to my spine to make sure I stay standing
I feel safe and secure to stand on a cliffs edge while the oceans muddy water rushes at it’s walls
I will not fall
Because I just showered
And I intend on staying clean…
PEARL SMOKE Jun 2018
Scared Prt 1.
2014
iM Scared Of Losing What
iHave Left.
iM Scared Of Seeing What
iHave Left Go Away.
iM Scared Of Disappointing
My Loved Ones Again.
iM Scared Of Being Reminded
What the reality of Drugs.                        can do once again.
iM Scared iF iM Sober Then Fall
iWont Ever Change again
iM Scared The Drugs Can
Take over me Like it Has before
Once more.
Scared Of Feeling Numb And Live The Whole Drug Addiction Cycle all over.

Scared prt 2.

I Relapsed & Now I'm worried.
Will I Go back to my old ways?
As much as I desire The Feeling of escaping my reality,
I can't live Like that. I don't want to be a drug addict all over again.
The Feeling Is pleasant . The Living of being 1 Is Horrific.

Scared prt 3
2017
I’m scared
Of never finding hope
To believe my life has no worth
To never finding a light
To get lost in the
Darkness of my depression.
Im Scared
To never feel true happiness
To believe I have
No purpose in life.
To see I really don’t matter ..
I’m scared to prove
Myself right.
To really never start a life.
I’m scared to
Then lose my self again
To lonely nights with toxic touches

Scared prt 4

Be aware
I’m not scared like I used to be.
To lose  you, see you walk out.
Watch you leave & end us.
I have drugs.
To replace you,
Forget who you were
Erases our memories & best times.
Be aware
If you do me *****, I don’t care.
Drugs will always be there .
Il depend to forever not feel..
If you leave me, I won’t cry.
I have lines to get me past times.
So please know , I’m not scared.
To be left ,

Scared prt 5
2018

I’m Trapped.
I’m not ok , I’m not safe.
The habits creeping up.
Slowly but rapidly.
I believe I got it together.
I tell myself I got it under control.
But do I really?
Relapsing after 2yrs is making an impact.
I’ve been falling frequently.
For a short time but I’m still using .
It will take ahold of me unexpectedly.
Slowly convince me this Drug life’s worth risking .
I need help .
I look fine.
I haven’t used severely but my minds hyped.
Il Get To that level.
If I don’t reach out in time.
My thoughts are converting slow
I can feel the careless emotions growing.
That’s why I’ve found it so easy to use and get away with it.
“Just today” “it’s only alittle” “I can handle this”
That’s until I build up my tolerance.
Lord Help me .. you know il cause heartbreaks if I turn back to what I Once was..

Scared

I’m so scared.
To get played again .
To get lied and betrayed.
I’m scared of my reaction.
I know il die alive.
I won’t even have the strength to ****** you.
I’d be so broken and just let the world walk all over me.
If you Do me *****
I’d lose it completely.
You’d prove all my doubts correct.
Assumptions I already knew were true in my head.
If you play me, Id lose my head.
Literally, go insane due to confusion & hate.
If you hurt me.
Drugs is what I’m going to be out searching.
Not even ask for an explanation.
I’d be too focused walking straight ahead to my connects house.
If you do me shady.
I Will Be angry at the world.
Scream to the top of my lungs
“WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS
I would drown myself in drugs.
I’d hate the world completely for hurting me when I’ve done none wrong.
I’d go So crazy.
How can I So Loyal Be Played With.
Etcetc can’t even write more

Scared prt 6

2018
Im not scared
Anymore .
I don’t know what to feel
Anymore.
I think I’m worried,
I just don’t feel it
Anymore.
My thoughts try to
Tell me something’s wrong.
I Can’t think of anything..
I’m unsure If I’m ok.
I don’t know if I’m
Even thinking straight.
I remember once feeling
So afraid.
I had to seek help on my own .
For the sake of my sanity.
My heart felt a heavy
Storm coming.
It rushed me to look out
Find shelter .
With strong material .
I started moving .
But did I act fast enough ?
Did I act before or after
Time had already passed..

Scared prt 7.
I’m scared
To Relapse & Stay Stuck
To give up recovery
I’m scared to
Look at you and walk away forever.
To just not care wether you believed I truly loved you.
I’m scared
For my love to be trapped
For all My strength to be gone
Lose it all ,
I’m crying.
Addiction will forever live in me
Wether Active or Overcomed
This drug will Always come
Aslong as I’m Happy , Positive
I won’t want to take a hit
But Even if nothing’s going on
My body & mind will randomly itch.
Ive been walking with this for too long to just erase it .
To forget I had a habit .


Scared prt 8
Jan 2018
Im not scared
Anymore .
I don’t know what to feel
Anymore.
I think I’m worried,
I just don’t feel it
Anymore.
My thoughts try to
Tell me something’s wrong.
I Can’t think of anything..
I’m unsure If I’m ok.
I don’t know if I’m
Even thinking straight.
I remember once feeling
So afraid.
I had to seek help on my own .
For the sake of my sanity.
My heart felt a heavy
Storm coming.
It rushed me to look out
Find shelter .
With strong material .
I started moving .
But did I act fast enough ?
Did I act before or after
Time had already passed..

Scared Part 9
Am I Fine.
Will I not rack a line.
Never touch a Rock in my life.

Am I Good.
Will I not Use again .
Will temptations not be seen as threats ?
Can I handle.
My urges to not Tweak again.
Will my triggers Be nothing to worry about?

Will I never feel tempted.
Have I finally over come every Obstacle of addiction?

I’m sorry.
I’ve worsen , I’m stuck once again.
This time it will be harder .
I’m a recovering addict
Stuck in a constant relapse Cycle.
What must I do
Should I sit & wait
On my next down fall ..

SCARED PRT 10

March 2018
I Didn’t notice.
Like always
I believed I had it all under control.
Everything was ok.
Everything seemed fine.
I felt normal,
I would stop soon.

I was Wrong ..
I Fell Down So quick.
I went hard.
No dubs or teeners.
I went straight to a Ball.
I just went all out.


I lost myself again.
I Lost control of the substance.
I Was trapped.
It became a problem.
One I wasn’t aware of.
I Had no recognition of at all.
I Didn’t see that I couldn’t stop.
I kept going
Kept using without seeing the frequency.
The days spent stuck.
I lost touch with reality.
This previous Relapse
Has been the worst in my life .
I haven’t had a binge like this time since 2015.
I used every day .
For 6 1/2 Weeks.
I lost track of the days & time.
I Sniffed & Smoked 2 8 ***** all to my self.

At the time I didn’t see how crazy that was.
Those weeks, an 8 didn’t surprise me.
The amount didn’t shock or Worry me.

I was fine , I had control.
I was doing ok , everything seemed & felt normal.
It was just a small relapse.


I was wrong
I lost touch with reality.
I formed a habit .
I was addicted again .

The sad part is
I’m able to acknowledge this Only through writing.
In real life , my denial mind
I’m able to handle my addiction. I’m ok & Dont have a problem.


It angers me.
Since my 1st Relapse
In August.
I’ve Fallen Very often.
It saddens me.
How I quickly Skipped
The Weight.
Why does it worry me?
My mind will no longer seek a Dub when I’m triggered to use.
It will want Another ball.

Anything less
My Addictive mind
no longer craves.
It now settles for Big.
This relapse has changed the game for my addict ways.
I’ve Relapsed every month
Since August.
I Had it all under control.
I Was able to use and stop.
Just this last time
I completely lost it.

Scared prt 11

I’m scared .
To lose my strength.
Have no durability.
To Give in So quick.
Be that weak
Where I don’t fear Tweak.
Find it easy
To just go seek.

I’m Worried
To reach that level .
Just Relapse constantly .
not care who Knows.
My problems
Have me overwhelmed.
Every day
The Stress grows .
I can’t bare another
Tug & Pull.
Like an ***** addict
I was addicted to your eyes
Eyes which did spark
Spark like clusters of stars
On a moonless night

Like an ***** addict
I was addicted to the luster
The luster about your skin
A skin pale unblemished
Gaily yet opalescent as an opal

Like an ***** addict
I was addicted to your lips
Lips so sweet as nectar
Nectar distilled from
All flowers of heaven

Like an ***** addict
I was addicted to your voice
A voice so fresh
And euphonious like
Whispers of a nightingale

But most of all

Like an ***** addict
I was addicted to your love
A love so indelible to me
Love that had me glance
Past beyond

Atop the stars
#***** addict #Her #Retrospections #Addiction #Beauty
sankavi Sep 2019
i am an addict.
i have always been an addict since as far as i can remember

i easily get addicted
to people
to bad habits
to drugs and alcohol
to the past

i am an addict
but i don't want to be one anymore

i am letting go of the people i put far too much time into
too much emotion and care without getting anything in return
i am done letting the people who dont care about me to have so much power over me

i am go of bad habits
i am done hurting myself, this one is going to be hard because self-harm is the best way i know how to cope with how i am feeling. i know its not healthy and hurting myself may make me feel better at the moment but will only make things worse

i am letting go of drugs and alcohol. i cant keep ruining my life just to escape reality for a bit then just snap back into reality and do it again. my body is my home and whether i like it or not it will always be. i need to take care of myself

and finally, i am letting go of the past
i need to stop reminiscing about the past and only think about the present and future
i cant change anything that has happened, i cant make the people who have left my past and i definitely cant force broken bonds back to normal no matter how much it hurts

i am an addict
and i have been for as long as far as i can remember
but i dont want to be one anymore
dear clayton,
very formal i know ****. but this poem is kind of for you but more for myself. you just helped me realize i spend way to much time caring about other people and focusing on them instead of myself. i care about you a lot and i dont think that will ever change but since we started talking again ive been so hung up in how we used to be and trying to force us back to that even though that will never happen. we can be a new us but its never going to be the same. i am completely over you now but talking to you just brought back those feelings but i now realize they werent real and i just missed loving someone as much as i loved you so i forced those feelings back. but it doesnt work like that. you hurt me a lot, like a lot, yet you somehow still have so much power over me, i trust you so much even though you give me no reason to and i would literally do anything to make you happy even though itll hurt me, and thats not ok. i still want you to be my friend but i need you to give me a reason for me to want to do that, but if you dont want to talk thats completely ok. i dont know youre probably never going to read this anyways. goodnight, i love you as a friend
Josh Otto Feb 2011
Separate from
Love.
God.
Food.
Money.
Cleanliness.
Water.
Sleep.
The alcoholic from drink.
The *** addict from --
Air.
Time.
Privacy.
Freedom.
These things tear down, cause
Stress.
Illness.
Fear.
Sadness.
Anger.
But the return is hopeful,
As is the possibility of a won battle,
And, sometimes, it takes a few tries.
I am an addict
Can't live without
When I stop using
I feel down and out

Did try it for a few weeks
Went into total lockdown
But after a while
I started to drown

My palms got sweaty
I started to suffocate
Couldn't breath anymore
And I lost my faith

So then I started using again
I just didn't know what I could do
So I decided to be an addict for life
Because I'm just too **** addicted to you
Lori Mack Sep 2018
More Than An Addict

I am more than just an addict.
Open your eyes and you'll see
Much more than the laws I've broken.
I am more than the drug that trys to conquere me.
Somewhere in here I am still me.
Look at what lies deep within.
Past my well created chamelon.
I am more than this addict you see.
I am more than a drug.
I am a daughter, a mother, a friend and a lover.
A christian, a writer and quiet the survivor.
Open your minds and see.
I am more than an addict.
More than a statistic,
more than a drug.
Somewhere inside here...
I am still me.
And I am loved.

L. Mack
11-24-15
Beginning of my recovery.
Àŧùl Feb 2019
To my mother's culinary blessings,
I'm an addict.

To my father's careful protection,
I'm an addict.

To my good habit of staying happy,
I'm an addict.
My HP Poem #1730
©Atul Kaushal
Ashley Rodden Apr 2021
My love, my dearest.
My thirst for you is never quenched.
My longing for your touch, always persists.
My hunger for your love, is never satisfied.
I need you!

I am an addict.

From the first kiss I was hooked.
A high that I reach, every time our lips meet.
The first touch of your hand, I was under your command.
The warmth of your body against mine, warms my soul. I will not ever let you go.

I am an addict.

You are my love, my obsession.
You are the other half of me.
You are the happy, when I am sad.
You are the best part of me.

I am an addict.

You are the addiction, that I will always have. You are the only person I want to spend eternity with.
My addiction for you is pure.

Yes I am an addict.

But you're a habit that my heart will not ever quit. You are the love of a lifetime and thank God you are mine ❤

My love for you will not ever rest.
My love for you will not ever die.
My love for you is eternal.
My love will take a bullet for you and still press on.
My sweetest friend wrote this for me. I have never known a love nor a more beautiful soul than his. A true blessing is his sweet heart to my life.
The Good Pussy Jan 2015
.

                                     A
                             d    d   d      d
                          d        i   c          d
                        i             t                i
                       c             A                c
                       t              d                 t
                      A             d                 A
                      d           i       c            d
                       d           t     A           d
                         i             d              i
                           c          d           c
                              t        i        t
             ­                          c
                                       k
preservationman Mar 2016
An addiction with affliction
I have a craving to which I have no control
I am a ****** addict I have been told
It seems why I am an addict I have no clue
I don’t care about the world or the people
It’s just that simple
I rather steal to maintain my habit
That’s all too it
Society made me who I am
My drug abuse was meant to be
I am in the open for all to see
If Death were to come I wouldn’t know
My attitude on that is so
My habit is my own business
I am committed and I am the witness
It’s risk I take
It’s my decision I make
One sniff is never done
If you are looking for the Addict, I am that one.
William Sep 2014
slip my hands around your throat
slip my blade though your vein,
Little monster.
Throw the first punch
you're already dead
why not die twice?
Theres already blood on my hands.

Guilty pleasures of the deviant mind
scratches down the spine,
Bite marks along your side,
Love bites across your collar bones.
my little monster,
Make a sound
leave your moans down the hallway.

Latex gloves against the skin,
Making his incision
victims lie screaming
eyes wide open
he looks down
for he found his little monster,
Within.
Liz Jan 2015
I loved the bitter taste,​​​​​​​
I miss the dusty air I breathed.
But time has come to give that up,
To let go of my chemical scars.
I will bandage myself up,
Repair my lonely hear,
And leave my old life of war,
For a calmer future.

I made my mistakes,
But my mistakes have not won.
My blood will never be pure,
But the evil has been killed.
deanena tierney Feb 2010
every thing is     a lie     a precipated deception
the promises are broken                  before they are made
                                                           the kisses             exchanged    to fool the receiver
The stories  shared
are to
offer false
                                                                       normalcy

The stool in the corner       is to reach the pills
                                           hidden on top of the fridge

                      the locked glove compartment  to keep items out of kids' reach

the cell pocketed to hide the contacts
                                                                                  The eye drops to hide the act
The drill in the bathroom
to unscrew another sealed box
                                                                the bills go to another address

                    there is no rhyme           no reason to
a drug addict's behavior
they                           do                           not                   follow                         rules!
                 everything
they

say is

                                                                         a lie

       So what of a plea for help?
To offer awareness of drug addiction.
Linguistic Play Jun 2014
Addiction is comical
amusing to the taker
in the moment
amusing to the ends
of destruction
amusing to the driving
of the mad

Addition is control
or loss of that
in which controls your control
control of yourself
in ways otherwise not feasible
control of your
surrounding and sense

Addiction is release
release from daily troubles and woes
release from traditional feeling and understanding
release from earthly prescriptions

and im addicted to everything in my wake
an addict with a pen
an addict with words and structure
an addict with a mad sense of the world around

But I don't want to float away
from everything that fears to straw
I don't want to fall away
from that of which I cannot come to accept

I want to hold to you
and keep you grounded
in me and my grounding from being grounded in you
I want to throw my anchor in your hands
with a strong grip
from tearing your fingers across reality
I want to hold to you

im dying to scream out to you
in silence
that we are all battling addiction
and worried about letting those anchors
slip from our weary finger tips
that we are all trying to figure it out
and we all notice something different
im dying to scream out to you
in silence
in unrequited gasps
that seep only to your pupils
and your understanding

This is your day
your wake
your break of the sheets
and the darkness
blinking open
to the light of the world
to the light of the soul
this is your life
and its easy
in the break of the sheets
the grip of the ground
beneath your feet
its easy
baby its breezy
dancing through the leaves
of the the trees
its breezy
Max Neumann Jul 2021
fear and sweat, flashin' gear
writin' rapz in hectic, but: yeaaah!
detached paramedics, but: yeeeah!
tizz alive, he and me, didn't die

who am i? will i be a version of me
free from dat ******* of abuse, b?
who would tell you the truth? me?
dunno, demons inside wear masks

they hide, whisper, mouth odor like gas
i'm behind, they passed by, they see,
know and feel dat i'm blind -- what is real?
and what's not? i know diz be god

"good" and "god" are like moon and sun
but if i use, then i run, will forget wise men
and it's bleeding through my eyes when
i'm unable to arise and sling like five men

codes from the land of oblivion
demons sending messages: dey fo'
da trashcan, you may be from aspen,
or a child of da bronx: good remains good

wrongs remain wrongs, stuck in-between
writing songs like cage fighters, man bites
dog, my weapon may be a pen or a glock:
if i do, use, take or abuse drugs: i'll fail

the loft, the jail, the yacht, the hate
hell ain't a snake pit but a desperate living,
shivering, lonely, no homeys, suffering
ignorant and angry, indifferent, cranky

still: a flickering, glimmering, somewhen

rock bottom, i hit it, my addict: i'm wit him
he within' me, steely and sneaky, peace
of ****, b, chasin' the thrill just to **** me
i will be dyin', will be fightin', skies brighten

no bullshittin, johnny weeks, so high,
delusional: "i'm a viking", drugs are unusual
why do i used dem as much dat i felt like
jim carrey as "truman" -- observed, being

followed; diz a good state to be in?
ya know da answer, my friend, shake
your own hand, accept ya name
leave da climate of coldness

diz requires boldness, but ya know what?
the addicted demons hate us like themselves
do not let 'em do dat
lock em in an inner shelf, wit a key

call it as you like, dear friend, i call it
"SELF-LOVE", ooooh boy: what a word,
what a term, your stomach may rage now:
fierce, furious demons being in flames

heaven yeah, let em burn, it's your turn,
put your life into god's hands, soft hands
clean yourself, wash ya hands, the
end of this poem must not be ours


**********      **

HELP: SOMETIMES IN PERSON, EVERY DAY ONLINE, CARING, FOR FREE. DON'T HESITATE TO MAIL ME, IN CASE YOU GOT ANY QUESTIONS. I WILL BE ANSWERING.

na.org
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ca.org
The other afternoon I got a message
From a friend about my latest musing
He said he didn't understand the poem
And in fact, it was confusing
He told me how he'd read some others
And they made no sense at all
And he said, he'd fix my problem
And he gave me a number to call
As one who likes a challenge
And not one to turn away
I phoned the gifted number
That's why I'm here today

"Welcome to the Group Encounter
It's group therapy for beginners
Your problems we will fix
And will help make you all winners"
At least that's what the sign said
I felt like I was being led to slaughter
But, I told my friend that I would go
And if I say yes....I gotta!!
The room was bright and cheerful
No silly signs upon the walls
I saw nothing else of much importance
There were no chairs, just *****
Eight people came, we took attendance
Which I found funny, since no one knew
Our real names, or our problems
I stood behind a ball of blue
The leader was a man...a doctor
He said it was good to see us all
I smiled back, and gave a greeting
I remembered the silly sign out in the hall
He informed the group that at this meeting
We didn't have to say a word
I thought that wouldn't help me with my problem
But I might learn from what I heard
"My name is Bill, and I'm an addict
came a voice so soft and meek
I like ******* and thighs and *******"
"Bill, you say that every week"
For those of you new to our meeting
Bills a butcher, not a freak
He always says this as his welcome
I made a note...Bill's help..don't seek!!
"I am Julie, I'm an addict
I drink all day and through the night"
Now, we're talking..I was thinking
Here is someone who's not right
"Hello Julie"....we all answered
I was anxious for her tales of *****
But, what a downer was old Julie
She just drank milk, her tale's a ruse
Julie really didn't drink much
She just needed to get out
Her mother thought she was a loner
She's sit around the house and pout
Bill the butcher and our lactaid milkmaid
really made me wish I'd not
phoned the number from my buddy
Some magic beans...that's what I'd bought
I stood and looked upon the faces
I'll make up something for their ears
I stood and said "My name is Shecky"
"and what I'll say, will bring you tears"
"I'm an addict, a man of knowledge"
"I have to know what makes things tick"
"I know this meeting's for beginners"
"But, I am here because I'm sick"
I told them that I liked dissection
Like Bill the butcher, only more
I described a surgical procedure
And two folks ran right out the door
I smirked a bit, my act was working
I had them wrapped, intent and deep
Now into their heads, I would start working
And in I'd run, I would not creep
More tales of blood and carnage
Sent two more people on their way
The lactaid milkmaid made her exit
I thought for sure, she'd be one to stay
I talked for oh, say forty minutes
The doctor, stood, his mouth was wide
The others too, sat gobs wide open
I think a small dog would fit inside
The doctor said, our time was over
He'd pulled me over for a chat
"I think you need more than you'll get here"
"Did you really do that to a cat?"
I just grinned, I'd had some fun here
I'd not return, that much I knew
The night was not a total loss
On my exit, Bill said I could be a butcher too!!
I called my friend when I got home
I told him of the night of fun
He listened close to what I told him
And he laughed loud, at what I'd done
He told me he had learned his lesson
And my meetings tale was most amusing
From now on, he'd not dissect
And not look deep into my musings
I said my words were there to look at
To confuse your mind is not my task
But, if you like what you have read...please
click "like" or comment....that's all I ask.
Mike Hauser Mar 2015
yes i admit it
that yes i am an addict
give me something to cling to
and i'll take it to the limit

no i'm not proud
of some of what i've done
hard some days to keep the count
but definitely more than once

and now my latest addiction
seems to be poetry
some have even mentioned
that's not a bad place to be

are they too in denial
are they themselves to far gone
not knowing all the while
they're also playing to its song

with anything once you lose control
and it has control of you
the deeper it is you dig the hole
the more you tend to lose

to me it's a constant battle
i'll be fighting till the end
because yes i am an addict
and poetry, my latest addiction
here i am once again digging my poetry hole where i'm here alone with my rhyming thoughts leaving all other duties behind...
Lord help me...
There is no more painful love
than unrequited love
A heart that is open
pouring out to another
but an empty space
like a vacuum
with nothing in return

Like giving a gift
‘Tis better to give than receive
And the heart offers freely
all of its wonderful presents

Free of expectations
when truly filled with love
It blindly releases itself to another
With a simple creed
‘I am for you’

Like the wall of a dam
suddenly letting go
A deluge of emotions
Thoughtful, interest, caring, warmth, love
A flowing waterfall
of Niagara proportions

However, without intention

which goes without saying
since the truer the love
the blinder it be

The vacated space
creates a sudden vacuum
A sharp, deep pit left
where once all of itself was housed

For a brief time
the heart is unaware
still glowing in the warmth
from the happiness and joy
of the love it gives

But slowly the glow fades
And the presence of the empty space
becomes more obvious
and apparent

A coldness sets in
An addict looking for a fix
The heart desperately seeks
in return what it has given

Never intending to give with strings
but so it finds itself
now tied to another
with the strongest of bonds

The intense fulfilling feeling
once experienced
Replaced with anguish,
longing, loneliness and pain

The mind and heart begin
an epic civil war
Feeling the torment
and seeing the destruction
the mind invokes all its resources
to break the bonds
the heart has created

But with hope that is
almost sad and pitiful
the heart refuses to let go
So sure of the ties it made
And fighting back with all
of its might to defeat
any attempt
the mind has
to remove the bonds of love

A man at war with himself
will find himself at war with others
And so, the inner conflict
resonates outwardly
displayed aptly with defiance
and destruction

Like a pebble in a pond
each action creates ripples
Slowly at first
but then with exponential speed
a life is destroyed
leaving only a broken
and beaten shell

And after all the destruction
and loss
All of the pain and suffering
The tears and sorrow
At this moment
standing on a pile
of nothing but debris
The mind,
with a sense of arrogance
and certainty,
confronts the heart
and pointedly asks,
“Do you see now?!
Do you see the
error of your ways??
Look what it has cost us!
Do you see the
mistake you’ve made?!”

Without hesitation or waiver
the heart responds
with a steady certainty
that is calm and cool in nature,
“No. Love is a risky venture.
One always, ‘takes a chance at love’.
But I will not admit
fault for trying.
When I love
I love freely and openly
I offer all of myself
without expectations
It’s only when you get involved
and create conflict within
that we have problems
To love is to love
It brings joy and happiness within itself
If it is not returned
then it is not returned
but an open and loving heart
can not feel emptiness and pain for it is filled with love
And there is no greater reward
than finding that love in another
and having another
find that love
in you
Written: March 4, 2018

All rights reserved
Ivie May 2013
She is drawn to SATAN like an addict to ******
She burns her fingertips, edging them into candle wax, mourning in the absence of Lucifer
“Dear valentine “she cries in the stark midnight, she won’t give in this time
She licks her raven shot gun, lining all the bullets in the form of pentagram
All she can hear is ringing in her head, he has made her weak,
Dangly calves, wrists scarred, teeth marks on her neck & heart scattered-
Like the ashes of his past lover’s
Traits of an incubus, seducing naïve women
Toying with their hearts, Masking his destructive tendencies, like a Russian politician
Eyes all pleasant lies, lips uttering praises for the rival’s spoken lines

Rough *** wont her mind, her heart wont subdue to his crimes
She is a fighter, he is a sinner
Smoke edged fingertips, lips turning into a wicked glee, bow down to the madhouse queen
Insanity is a welcomed relief, freedom from his infidelity
Pressing on the lever, pointed directly at his cerebrum
“Venomous mind, you should’ve have never thrown your heart in confines, you would have been alive”
CRACK! Led by a passage of dead silence, later morphed into scavengers screeching and agile flapping of inky wings.
i wrote this months ago,maybe in jan.i think this is the craziest thing i have ever written.
Dark side feels a lot more attractive when your naive,but when you have tasted it,you want to run.
vircapio gale Aug 2012
on moonstone slab Manmata flames again
from out of ashes rises, gloating unfinality of Shiva's dance
reincarnate offering of endless Self
in Lakshmi's avatar
a fateful prince's heart to lance

and lanced his heart her visage did,
                                                     though with vaster pinions fully pierced was she, in depths
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                 without rivalry~

his lust was sharp to invite solitude,
but easy to conceal,
he imagined cupping her against him,
scoured memory of upward glimpse,
inch  by  inch
with added imagery, invention moulding her
beneath his grasp
from forehead curls along
glowing skin and eyes
to curving, palatially appareled ******* . . .
her open lips . . .  her hips
--but after, merely to dismiss
and even sleep a bit
and quip inside at irony
to be at mercy
of a girl in flowers
when he with arrows demons lay to rest
(though she would, within the selfsame hours lose her wits ;)

in cityscape descried the triad:
gold dome gifts for sky
in shining generosity
Mithila's people overflow with joy
exuding free abundance carelessly--
jewelry loosed on playful street
from overkeen embrace, is left to lie;
loss in ever-present wealth nigh obsolete

musth of elephant, froth of steed,
floral garlands tangle, line and mix
for clouds of honey-bees to lick their feast.
a bustling of virile acrobatic populace--
symphonic mux of chaos tressed,
metropolis of idylls coalesced;
drums, races, grinning faces flinging courtship,
smirking merchants under wigs
bathers splash exotic fish to flit and weave
while ballads sift for higher pitch of love

from elevated terrace ladies prance
and watching from an inner spire
the princess spies her prince--
emerald shoulders, lotus-petal eyes
Vaikunta hidden from their mortal sight
but straining recognition there,
a union ageless as the stars
inspired suddenly another first:
Rama's transfixed stare she feels and meets,
strangers locked entwining glances
--fated simultaneous-- electric heat   like
from a planet sparking for the taste of outer space --
the lightning burns its mark ensouled
in blooms beyond her ripe, anthophilous form,
verdant visions planted in the rays of light
between two instant loves
to slip inside the eyelid entrance
and evermore impregnate with a glory ill,
as separation wills,
to colonize throughout with other Being there
phantasmal yearnings of entrancing elegance
--from dawn of time instilled, akashic script
of binding hurt with joy in love's embrace
condemn desire to a writhing term
when not imbibing such togetherness
a worldless crypt preferred

and so as swift as gymnast flip to fall
the heart is gushing toxic lack,
epic ventricles the viscose tug
in fluid inspiration wrote of Sita's
sudden addict gnashing inner plight
while slips the sight interred within the crowd,
as if a sorcerer the cosmic sea to play her destiny:
the waves inside enraged to overwhelm
the sudden coral crust beneath the swell
an unmarked seaside's lavish drown unto the land
and reeling send this fragile ******
into wilting, her floral haze to drooping fell...
        in revelatory crash of passion's oceanic weight...
attendants pamper uselessly
--from swoon to mood irate
to wait until the next appearance of her mortal god
the only one to sate the shameless need
entwining up within a clenching wrack of milky fits
from bed to sweaty bed they take the burning maiden~
the outer sea inflow in calming dusk meant nothing to the agony of new romance
                       sequestered in hymenic fire, dawning brilliant
                                                       ­                                omni chakral pierce in rays,
                                                                ­                                                              tot­ality relentlessness
and therein descry a wholeness
  yet unregained
a hopeless birdsong careless as the wind
in caring strokes of pollen redolence
for forest ears an endless vibrate mate
of elemental ease the simmer float
upon the dukkha broil paths embroidery of karmic
cookery the godly recipe invoked,
gibed her without cease,
****** flare eternal guna coals to stoke
and spite her with their peace,
for her attainment only next to he
the moon communes the message blinding clear
amid the ghee her girls would light in care
to soften her despair -- but only aggravate her state --
and so by dim refracted moondrops set,
in only gemlight, Sita basks in pain
her gaze entrained by night obsessively
while overhead the crescent hook beams
freely in to fertilize her all-too-chastely girdle there,
petals wilting under body pressed to slab of stone
as mounting groan on groan intones her writhing questioning
of whomever he could be to cast her moaning so
a deity in maidenhead unwitting of such otherlife
left by endless, anthrocosmos' whim to ache, and alone
in wonder scream abandonment from aether poise
confusion reigning noisome nescient choice


















.
Manmata: the god of love, who Shiva is said to have burned to ashes with the purity of his contemplation
Lakshmi: Hindu goddess of wealth, prosperity (both material and spiritual), fortune, and the embodiment of beauty. She is the consort of the god Vishnu. She takes her mortal form as Sita in the Ramayana, destined for Rama (who is Vishnu's avatar).
Guna: an element, 'thread', 'string' or principle of nature; the three gunas are (sattva), (rajas), and (tamas)
Dukkha: suffering
Anthro-: as in 'human'

"The impact of the Ramayana on a poet, however, goes beyond mere personal edification; it inspires him to compose the epic again in his own language, with the stamp of his own personality on it.  The Ramayana has thus been the largest source of inspiration for the poets of India throughout the centuries . . . Thus we have centuries-old Ramayana in Hindi, Bengali, Assamese, Oriya, Tamil, Kannada, Kashmiri, Telugu, Malayalam, to mention a few."   -R.K. Narayan (whose prose version of Kamban's 11th c.e.Tamil --originally written on palm leaves-- i'm reading at the moment, and whose advice i've found myself compelled to follow. in no way am i an authority, but an amateur--literally--'in love')

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/ramas-inauguration-facing-the-murderous-gluttony-of-thataka/

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/soorpanaka-the-demon-as-kamavalli-lusts-for-rama-1/
Bunhead17 Jan 2016
As a addict with a pen,
who's addicted to the wind...
The waves mean nothing to me.*
But know this i'm addicted to you
I have tasted your mind
and I cannot forget its flavor.
The first time I kissed you,
I was hooked.
Addicted to you.
I could never love anyone
the way I loved you.
You are my sugar rush,
my ******* bliss,
my illegal high,
my perfect kiss.
I will wait for you,
because I don't want anyone else.
Title inspired by Twenty-One Pilots  @falenacon.blogspot.com
Ashley Rodden Dec 2013
Come to see him
when you have no right to
Come play daddy for a day
does that make you feel good?
Run and tell your friends
that you're a father
because you like the title
Put on a happy face and smile from ear to ear
Talk like you know him
for everyone to hear
Talk like you have always been there for him
Hold him as if he would recognize your touch
Watch him through your lieing glazed eyes
and hug him way too much
Kiss him and tell him how much you care
Tell him you love him before you disappear
Turn your back and walk away like he never meant a thing
Tell him your his daddy
when he don't even know your name
I see you swell with pride when you call him your's
when you play with him like you're the one he adores
You're the definition of fake
You're a lie and nothing more
and your son knows not who you are
So tell him that you miss him
And that you'll see him soon
Lie to him again and again
Make empty promises
that will never come true
Laugh at all the silly things you watch him do
Act like your something big
Like your doing something good
Does it make you feel like more of a man?
Does this feel good to you?
Hug me before you leave and tell me that you're sorry
Hold me like you really care and
Tell me you still love me
but don't dare look me in the eye
Because you know I'll be able to see nothing but true lies
You're a drug addict
A lowlife in it's truest form
So go back to your shameful life with your *****
light it up and take another hit
Let it burn and try to let yourself forget
Wallow in your self pity
and hang your head real low
Cry until you drown yourself because
You won't see us anymore
The damage you have done can never be erased
So live with the few memories you have of him
that are burnt inside your head
then close your eyes and sleep with your pride and regret
You have made this bed and in it you will have to lye
Waste yourself away to nothing
as you slowly dissipate
You are nothing to him
and you're nothing to me
so overdose on us as you take your final hit!

Copyright © 2013 by Ashley Rodden
Photography,
Photo journalistic,
Everyday, realistic.

Commercial, architecture, landscape, artistic,
Industrial, fashion, ethnographic, pornographic.

Big Brother, fallace, stealer of souls, vouyer.
News seller, instant gratifier, man pleaser, woman abuser.

Barthes, Sontag, Cindy Sherman,
Virginia Woolf, Warhol. Weegie, Francesca Woodman,
Leibovitz, Adams, Arbus, Tina Modotti,
Nan, Evans, Hoffer and even the Paparazzi.

Cheap *****, digital manipulator, image poser,
Center fold, coupons, Jackie O and Marilyn Monroe.
Where did they go:

Lifeless paper product, painter's picture mess,
C-type, digital archival,
Sepia, black and white, hard drive retrival.

Image addict,
Image taker,
Image maker,
image seller,
image buyer.

Newspaper, magazine, graphics and ads,
TV, dreams, even the trash.

Billboards, subways, phones and buses:

Utopia:
Surreal, crop, stretched and air brushes.

Modern ideal.
Surface manipulator.
Brain conditioner.
Consent manufacturer.

Oh Photography,
I got you in my eye.
A few thousand dollars,
A BFA, A critical scholar.

Or maybe a nerd,
Just boys with toys.
Telephoto genitals, with motor drive action.
Studio lights, umbrella traction.

Oh Photography,
You proprietor of obscene.
Detailed, de-sensitized.
Court ordered, jury analyzed.

Click, image, copy, edit, paste, print or post.
Myfacespace, twitter, flicker,
An internet media overdose.

Pry, spy, your friend's friend's acquaintances.
Parties, picnics, reunions and shows.
Visits, vacation, style, shoes and clothes.


Pics, photos, images, jpegs and giffs.
Snap shot, portrait, panoramic, Kodak kiss.

Exacerbate:
Divorce, break-ups, jealousy, envy, love and fears.
Devour and captivate society for years.

Slaves to Western and Capitalist desires,
Destruction of Earth with psychological, monetary empires.

— The End —