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"codeine" poems
Nectar of the forbidden fruit must be nicotine laced, codeine based. Powder trace mirror reflecting on broken face. Just one taste. Lips taut, set perfectly in place. Whiskey shot with whiskey chase. Her armor? Cold eyes, *Arsenic, and Old Lace.*
0
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 7:04 PM UTC
Taste.
Sag my corpse in 32 degree weather through the city of God where paraplegics dream of running. “Oh Rhodesian mercenary,” humble my soul again like in C(hi)(ca)ongo. But remember The revolution starts on my mama’s bed at half past six. So excuse me while I smoke my drink like a Brooklyn Leftist from the 40’s tramples burning cigarettes on cold pavements where codeine and Sprite make any Tuesday fabulous because we already suffered from (and for) the goods of mankind. But before you read me the history of Hatchepsut; I learned the art of man within the confines of FCC regulations after my ‘Pa threw ******* out the window and made life in the cell not mundane by telephoning philosophical-entendres     that tomorrow never happened. He too was from the blood of the ancestors whose bodies were charred on as goods— whose children now char their bodies with the goods of the goddess of Victory— the official trademark for the lost Exodus—the blood and blue moribund— sagging pyrrhic victories in 32 degree weather as homage to their charred ghost (fore)fathers who preyed to the city of God for bread
0
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC
Portrait of a milk carton as a young adult
The answer is i don't know.. Or do i know? coke xtc mdma tramadol eph xanax cannabis hasj speed/amphetamine 2cc flunitrazepam codeine vallium ritalin concerta lsd/acid bromazepam lorazepam 2cb etizolam 4fa ketamine 2fa/2fma ghb mephedrone (meow meow) methox And i'm pretty sure my list won't end there. It's not that i can't stop but i just don't want to feel reality.
0
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 9:53 PM UTC
why do i take all these drugs
Purp-Purple Purp-Purple in my blood, cut it, cut it, cut it Let it bleed, blee-bleed Sipping on the lea-le-lean Smoking that dank My blood stream-stre-stream When the codeine hits It hits real hard When the codeine hits It hits real hard, hard-hard Drop a rancher in, let it-let it splash Splas-splash Turn up the system, ***** let the snare drum Crash cra-crash Rolling through the hood, chevy dropped low (Lo-low yeah) My Chevy real lo-lo-low I said my leather and wood Chevy dropped low Johnny's in the basement mixing up the medicine Mixing up the-mixing up the medicine-med-medicine **** C's in the backroom letting all the ratchets in Ratchet-ratchet-ratch- Letting all the ratchets in Dumping out cigar trash-tra-trash Fill it back with the hash-ha-hash Sip that lean slow Bringing the good old nineties back Ba-back Said bring the good old nineties back
0
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 5:26 PM UTC
Chopped and *******
****** and bass ****** and bass. All she want in her face is ****** and bass. All she wanna do is **** ****** kiss ******* and listen to Future. **** that's why I won't pursue her. Love and the essence of life don't get through to her. She is an addict. Running from life and abusing **** to get away from it. So much beauty and potential but he she wanna be a dumb ***** She wanna be that ***** or some ***** that gotta man that's rich and follow the crowd. Blowin loud. Poopin xans and sippin lean. She ain't never seen a trap but She listens to Future and shes stumblin. Choppin it the **** up and mumblin. Lickin her lips and giggling because my sub in the trunk is tickling her pearl tongue and both lungs. We are both young but that's no reason to act so dumb and walk around all numb. When I kick her some philosophy she doesn't care all she can think about is her on top of me. All in her soul. All in her face. ****** and bass. ****** and bass. All she want in her face is ****** and bass. All she wanna do is **** ****** kiss ******* and listen to Future. The Promethazine King. The codeine connoisseur. You can't be a loser if you wanna get through to her.   She needs your dollar signs and expensive **** before you even see the **** or a *** or an *** cheek. She's fine as hell but If you ask me she ain't no Ashley from Fresh Prince. She's nasty.   Freaky and far from innocent. She wants it blasted in her face until she can't see straight. She wants the force from the back till she feel it in her stomach and her back. She listens to Future but I'm no codeine cowboy. She's mistaken me for him because I'm as fresh as an altoid and my eyes are as low as the unemployment rate. I set the bait and there is the prey. Now she is all in my face. ****** and bass. ****** and bass. All she want in her face is ****** and bass.
0
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 1:15 PM UTC
"She Listens To Future"
****** and bass ****** and bass. All she want in her face is ****** and bass. All she wanna do is **** ****** kiss ******* and listen to Future. **** that's why I won't pursue her. Love and the essence of life don't get through to her. She is an addict. Running from life and abusing **** to get away from it. So much beauty and potential but he she wanna be a dumb ***** She wanna be that ***** or some ***** that gotta man that's rich and follow the crowd. Blowin loud. Poopin xans and sippin lean. She ain't never seen a trap but She listens to Future and shes stumblin. Choppin it the **** up and mumblin. Lickin her lips and giggling because my sub in the trunk is tickling her pearl tongue and both lungs. We are both young but that's no reason to act so dumb and walk around all numb. When I kick her some philosophy she doesn't care all she can think about is her on top of me. All in her soul. All in her face. ****** and bass. ****** and bass. All she want in her face is ****** and bass. All she wanna do is **** ****** kiss ******* and listen to Future. The Promethazine King. The codeine connoisseur. You can't be a loser if you wanna get through to her.   She needs your dollar signs and expensive **** before you even see the **** or a *** or an *** cheek. She's fine as hell but If you ask me she ain't no Ashley from Fresh Prince. She's nasty.   Freaky and far from innocent. She wants it blasted in her face until she can't see straight. She wants the force from the back till she feel it in her stomach and her back. She listens to Future but I'm no codeine cowboy. She's mistaken me for him because I'm as fresh as an altoid and my eyes are as low as the unemployment rate. I set the bait and there is the prey. Now she is all in my face. ****** and bass. ****** and bass. All she want in her face is ****** and bass.
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89
remember the last great unpredictable summer deluded by codeine and cigarettes pulled by lunar cycles toward reproduction practice interconnected over coral reefs before real estate won the forest we slept untouched on the beach encouraged by chemical overuse with our hair tied together in knots and seagulls flocked on long leafy wings their beaks pointed out passed the big rubber sun and i struck your vein with a needle and you struck my strange heart like a runaway slave you danced naked in the florida sun and i stood behind you on tall stalky legs laughing, getting high like an osprey sweating into a shrine, wringing out my heart on the banks of that lazy river in my hometown when the sun went down we chased each other through the thready umbrella of vines and pine roots under the old abandoned bridge a mile long
0
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 6:02 PM UTC
unpredictable summer
sink into the silence nothing left by nothing a silent trip adviser to blame the past on levels of induced mindless consumption that dealt with the singularity breath ghost located in page after page after page of longing caress and sniff and smell the burning rubber sensation of ice melted fire drops dealt to deal with dealing memories forgave in the think tank calm in the blue raindrop frisky frisk touch of soul felt with eyes wide open and a heart made of gold to last ever last in the synaptic convulsion that twitches and squirms of a mental addiction love and pain and parlor trick injections did i mention the hopeful twist of a sudden quick thinking passing love is love actually and codeine is a moment of unloved passive regret o d on your section of unblinking overwatch i snorted the powder to happiness everlasting cuddle with my corpse i want to be the little spoon and feel your heartbeat in my back pressed selfishness to hold my soul and revel in the passiveness of unthinking let me lick your inner soul and taste the salt of a lie left on cracked breathless lips
0
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
little spoon
we spill out into the dark Sanguine moon watching your guiding hands and mine lead so softly to the lily-vellum of your thighs then a fuse-spark a cataclysm of ruffled skirt hands on your apocalyptic hips your lips are rhododendron honey your lips are codeine mellifluous and urgent as the pressing heat of a black summer night.
0
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 8:06 AM UTC
****
This is for the residents who remember And for the transplants who Have yet to be informed But have got an inkling Burque has gone from Bustling to busted And back again Growing up in the 80’s I learned about the Varying degrees of “sick” As my dad pointed out The pekid pachucos perusing Pharmacy isles Attempting to purchase Cough syrup with codeine In the evenings Driving home down Central I would ceremoniously Count hookers My parents would Precariously pack heat In the trunk of our car Or even in my mom’s special ***** pack With the hidden compartment For her .38 snub nose Because you never know Who will be in your home When you arrive That’s a given When flop houses are Interwoven with prime real estate And barrio boundaries Border the bourgeois’ bungalows And Huning’s Castles And residents rarely recognize Or realize That aside from the locals The European Jews Was the only group gutsy enough To settle here And create commerce Despite risks of being raided By Apaches And they reaped the benefits Off Roma and Marquette Because the rewards Turned out to be greater than The risks And up North Where Sephardic turned Crypto Conversions to Catholicism Kept the Messiah’s spirit alive But in basements They still did Chi fives! I was saddened in middle school When I realized That many of our parents Were too ashamed of our roots To teach us Spanish And our Schools ****** so severely That most of us Didn’t learn English either But hey – All you need to Communicate while cruising Are cat calls And the thumping boom Of the bass in the tubes And the hydraulic drop When they hit The hot spots From Tingley, Kit Carson and Central to Copper Each kid dreams that His ride Will be the show stopper I could rant and rave And rattle off for days But bottom line – We have the most Curious state With mysterious qualities And in-depth histories But most of us are More concerned with Bud Light And Biscochitos Con Manteca Because it just tastes great!
0
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 2:39 AM UTC
Ode to Downtown Burque – and New Mexico too
This is for the residents who remember And for the transplants who Have yet to be informed But have got an inkling Burque has gone from Bustling to busted And back again Growing up in the 80’s I learned about the Varying degrees of “sick” As my dad pointed out The pekid pachucos perusing Pharmacy isles Attempting to purchase Cough syrup with codeine In the evenings Driving home down Central I would ceremoniously Count hookers My parents would Precariously pack heat In the trunk of our car Or even in my mom’s special ***** pack With the hidden compartment For her .38 snub nose Because you never know Who will be in your home When you arrive That’s a given When flop houses are Interwoven with prime real estate And barrio boundaries Border the bourgeois’ bungalows And Huning’s Castles And residents rarely recognize Or realize That aside from the locals The European Jews Was the only group gutsy enough To settle here And create commerce Despite risks of being raided By Apaches And they reaped the benefits Off Roma and Marquette Because the rewards Turned out to be greater than The risks And up North Where Sephardic turned Crypto Conversions to Catholicism Kept the Messiah’s spirit alive But in basements They still did Chi fives! I was saddened in middle school When I realized That many of our parents Were too ashamed of our roots To teach us Spanish And our Schools ****** so severely That most of us Didn’t learn English either But hey – All you need to Communicate while cruising Are cat calls And the thumping boom Of the bass in the tubes And the hydraulic drop When they hit The hot spots From Tingley, Kit Carson and Central to Copper Each kid dreams that His ride Will be the show stopper I could rant and rave And rattle off for days But bottom line – We have the most Curious state With mysterious qualities And in-depth histories But most of us are More concerned with Bud Light And Biscochitos Con Manteca Because it just tastes great!
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90
Jovial mess on bed encapsulates heartburn diarama a fresh coat Bismuth Business man with codeine red sweet stains on his dockers 3am Dharmic ranting "job well done Wednesdays" and "feel good Fridays" Moronic howling immediacy immediately vibrating cell walls within the twenty-something aged voice box device. Burly chest galavant push up to get the muscle fat lean, and impress upon the natural on-and-on leave the face unscathed along Have to be outside Outside where it's most safe ascend the incline just before the nightshade lose your technology in the primordial Koi Fish Pond in oxymoronic fashion and let the nature of this dream leer at you from the area down below.
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
Twenty-Somethings
Gauze and gargle, clots and codeine.    No straws!    No scotch! Where wounds heal, craters remain. Months pass, violence fills the void. A call, a message, a beacon of hope. A crown for the headless king,   asleep in the depths of his saliva slicked cave. Clasping and grasping,   an imposter of the highest caliber.
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 9:56 PM UTC
jaws' teacup
Hi, I'm Hannah. I like reading and old books and tea. you could say I'm an  old soul. I also have a mild alcohol problem and if you can't handle that then you can leave already because my alcohol problem isn't just an alcohol problem it's a depression problem and I use alcohol to cover it all up. You see, instead of fixing or facing our problems. more often than not we cover them with even more bigger and dangerous problems. Sometimes I'll start drinking and I'm not getting drunk as fast as i'd like to cover the pain and so I'll take codeine with it. DO NOT MIX CODEINE WITH ALCOHOL. EVER. it's dangerous and stupid but i'm dangerous and stupid but this can literally **** you. My "friends" who i think are my friends, even though when i try to be a good friend they turn to each other and not me. But that's cool as long as they get the help they need even if it makes me feel completely useless. Anyway my friends, they noticed my issue with drinking, i just don't think they cared enough to help or at least i hid it so well that they had no idea they needed to help me. This is all that it is. A cry for help. Because I'm screaming and drowning at the deep end of a pool but the lifeguard can't swim. I'm screaming but all my friends are deaf and I'm trying to show them but they're blind. Then I turn to you. You're the beacon of light in the distance. You're the destination my ship is supposed to go and it's following your light, the only hope left. My ship is finally sailing back home. It's been gone for weeks, months, years but it's finally coming back from the war. But you're too far away. And my ship sunk at the rocky shore. I wake up. Alone. Covered in last nights make up. What did I do last night?
0
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
An Alcoholics honest Truth
Hi, I'm Hannah. I like reading and old books and tea. you could say I'm an  old soul. I also have a mild alcohol problem and if you can't handle that then you can leave already because my alcohol problem isn't just an alcohol problem it's a depression problem and I use alcohol to cover it all up. You see, instead of fixing or facing our problems. more often than not we cover them with even more bigger and dangerous problems. Sometimes I'll start drinking and I'm not getting drunk as fast as i'd like to cover the pain and so I'll take codeine with it. DO NOT MIX CODEINE WITH ALCOHOL. EVER. it's dangerous and stupid but i'm dangerous and stupid but this can literally **** you. My "friends" who i think are my friends, even though when i try to be a good friend they turn to each other and not me. But that's cool as long as they get the help they need even if it makes me feel completely useless. Anyway my friends, they noticed my issue with drinking, i just don't think they cared enough to help or at least i hid it so well that they had no idea they needed to help me. This is all that it is. A cry for help. Because I'm screaming and drowning at the deep end of a pool but the lifeguard can't swim. I'm screaming but all my friends are deaf and I'm trying to show them but they're blind. Then I turn to you. You're the beacon of light in the distance. You're the destination my ship is supposed to go and it's following your light, the only hope left. My ship is finally sailing back home. It's been gone for weeks, months, years but it's finally coming back from the war. But you're too far away. And my ship sunk at the rocky shore. I wake up. Alone. Covered in last nights make up. What did I do last night?
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15
I've always thought of you But the thought of loosing you, Has driven me to pharmaceuticals. Quit, I know I oughta to, But I just feel the benzos pulling through, What the Hell shall I do? So I try to play it down, Even though its only opie It still aint half as bad as brown. Lets lighten it up, Don't wanna be no dope fiend But like a pent up bull to red I head straight for the shop bought codeine Oh cody, you don't make me swell, If anything man, you make my being well, For that small amount of time I feel I can take on the world Until I get to tomorrow and I feel I've created Hell! All the things we do, Just so we can feel the warmth, Finding our little cliques, Just by the way we talk. Have you tried this, This ones hit and miss, Mix it in with this, For eternal bliss. Now I've heard it all before Nothing improves and nothing changes, But there's something in the brain That promises you can catch that Dragon once again. The Dragon flies high With the fire in his belly, But you haven't any, So why you trying to catch him. (So why do you even try).
0
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 7:19 AM UTC
Dragons
I'm shaking with fear and I want to **** That unicorn I see that has all my pills, Those pills that give me all the nice thrills, From codeine to NyQuil to Advil, People stare at me and shake and shiver, Pulling out a knife while my hands quiver, Stab it into some small child's liver, Today I'm a mailman, a death deliverer, That child's name was Jon, I killed him while he was mowing a lawn, He was Mexican and trying to get paid, I guess I had to come around and make his day, I said, "Yeet!" as I threw the kids body, Down into the river and then I yelled, "Gotee!", I'll feast on the rest of the child's flesh, Jon was a nice meal, probably the best, I didn't find my pills in Mr. Jon the unicorn, I guess his mom gave birth to a ***** that was born, Without the pill portal that he should've had, Their family is terrible, all members must be bad, Now I don't have my pills and I've just had a meal, I guess the kids meat was a good enough appeal.
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Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
Thanks A Lot, Jon
You're the big spoon And I'm the codeine Intoxicated, in a haze I don't get your gaze I'm too high off of you Too used to being numb I actually think I am right for you So dumb You know what they say about ignorance It's bliss I'm addicted to the idea of you That I'll miss Because I'll never earn you Emotionally, spiritually Least of all physically I'm too busy getting high Aiming for the moon Melting down like the stars Addicted to hope I still think I'm free
0
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
Big Spoon, Pipe Dream
She snorts her Ritalin she snorts her xanex she snorts her ******* before she has *** She loves her codeine and her amphetamines her world spins so fast she needs some Dramamine she buys and sells pills, writes prescriptions she skips most meals to feed her addictions light up a cigarette gulp down a percocet mix uppers and downers hoping that they offset she takes bottle after bottle of pills and alcohol she just tips it back and swallows it all a walking pharmacy a waiting tragedy a princess of pills her Medicated Majesty
0
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 7:12 AM UTC
Her Medicated Majesty
“No one is ever satisfied with the success, is ever satisfied with the success, is ever satisfied with the dream.  It’s the hunger before a meal when you realize how good it is to be alive.” With each passing day I feel youth slip from my bones like scoops falling off a summer ice cream cone to blistering pavement.  All of my friend’s dogs are dying of old age just like mine.  Childhood trees we used to climb have either grown too tall to reach or were struck by lightning.  Decisions, no matter how trivial, become monumental in the scope of time.  There is no end in sight…only the faintest memory of humble beginnings, leading us blindly into the vacuum of tomorrow, ******* the dreams from our head to feed the plague of survival. That’s why you bruise with a breath.  Your heart beats too hard for your house of card frame.  Your body—desert willow—thrives on nothing, pumping cells full of carrots, vitamins and codeine. Last night, While you were sleeping, I sank to the bottom of the ocean with a seven mile chain attached to a thousand pound anchor and a Swiss army knife.  Slipping through seasons I fell colder and deeper and darker, waving and giggling as I sank for miles, watching the surface light blur and fade completely until I was in night, a gentle pulse of luminescence massaging me with it’s glow, the old-ironsides squid laughing, the rave fish pulsing with dinner plate pupils, the leather armor jellyfish are calm as Sunday's first **** and the flat rainbow fish spin their data and vanish into black. All I think I know at 22: Why they call this the information age; What Buddy meant when he said, “There is a distance the size of bravery”; This is the best part.
0
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 4:11 PM UTC
How Do You Categorize Your Thoughts?
“No one is ever satisfied with the success, is ever satisfied with the success, is ever satisfied with the dream.  It’s the hunger before a meal when you realize how good it is to be alive.” With each passing day I feel youth slip from my bones like scoops falling off a summer ice cream cone to blistering pavement.  All of my friend’s dogs are dying of old age just like mine.  Childhood trees we used to climb have either grown too tall to reach or were struck by lightning.  Decisions, no matter how trivial, become monumental in the scope of time.  There is no end in sight…only the faintest memory of humble beginnings, leading us blindly into the vacuum of tomorrow, ******* the dreams from our head to feed the plague of survival. That’s why you bruise with a breath.  Your heart beats too hard for your house of card frame.  Your body—desert willow—thrives on nothing, pumping cells full of carrots, vitamins and codeine. Last night, While you were sleeping, I sank to the bottom of the ocean with a seven mile chain attached to a thousand pound anchor and a Swiss army knife.  Slipping through seasons I fell colder and deeper and darker, waving and giggling as I sank for miles, watching the surface light blur and fade completely until I was in night, a gentle pulse of luminescence massaging me with it’s glow, the old-ironsides squid laughing, the rave fish pulsing with dinner plate pupils, the leather armor jellyfish are calm as Sunday's first **** and the flat rainbow fish spin their data and vanish into black. All I think I know at 22: Why they call this the information age; What Buddy meant when he said, “There is a distance the size of bravery”; This is the best part.
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20
Crystals of white for a childs first kiss ***** is temporary bliss Eyes like lace and teeth like coals Coughing up bruises and spitting out souls Breaking waves that bury the sea Swallowing down all its debris Fingertips shivering up your spine Caskets of pills and velvet devine A mother with shaking hands Only a whispering brutality understands Seven for the morning All to make life slightly more adorning Pale skin and sleepless nights Veins covered in cloth while the frost bites Hollow bones and painless cries Blood vessels knawing at her thighs Embroidered pleas A religion to throw you to your knees Black lace and the codeine scene
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Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 4:29 AM UTC
Black Lace & The Codeine Scene
I've got many things on my mind I might as well talk to you. I'm twisted I'm disturbed I'm vice ridden I'm desperate too. You look okay I might as well talk to you. My life has been spent in shadows trying to emerge I've swept the floor washed the windows did the dishes too I guess that is what they call this life. I've seen the tunnel on one too many codeine Grandma sent me away I've gone astray I blew up my future behind ******* My children say I gambled it all away. One mellows in their old age No time for anger No time for drama too. I've learned to accept myself Accept you That testerone it blows up it calms down Sleep it goes way too fast I wake up to another day. I've rubbed myself raw I know what it means to be deranged I know what it means to long for it too. You understand. Don't nod off now I'm coming to the most interesting part But I woke up in another horizon Woke up on another plain Another dimension has called my name This life I now savor. As you have said I know it is predictable moves A complicated game I never learned to play. Another opportunity to prove I'm never what I'm supposed to be. I've done the best I could with what I've got With that I am at peace I apologize for everything I have ever been, But I am alive I'm still breathing have another day to prove it all again I've got things on my mind I might as well talk to you.
0
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 9:54 PM UTC
Therapy Session
They ache and sting As if they've been stapled shut then ripped open By a big metal thing But I can't stop Writing. I can't stop Reading. I am a word addict, Seeking out my very next fix. Even codeine can't lure me from the screen.
0
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
Eye Surgery
I've caught you like the common cold but I have no interest in getting better spare me the nyquil I'll pass on the penicillin I have no love for codeine your presence is the most sobering thing I know. I miss spoke a few seconds ago there's nothing common about you you're a rare strain of virus and I'm patient zero diagnosis: terminal infect me, corrupt me, do your very worst. break me down into my component parts and return me to the earth from which I came. I have made my peace. I will rise from that same earth, lazarus of chocolate skin a little stronger a little wiser immunized by your viral love to the horror of the world. so take me make & unmake me I would die a thousand deaths by your hands.
0
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
typhoid mary
Lucid dreaming whilst sleeping in zero gravity Encapsulated in the realm of Nirvana Majestic tranquility of a pilular nature Pilular because you have "class" Constellation of implications, Etched on skin We all have dabbled in tragedy.
0
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 4:30 PM UTC
Codeine
I can’t really tell you About love, You. I’m interested in ******* Till I’m raw, and holding You like the universe you Are. Sometimes I go around With hoes, Smoking blunts till we fume And sing and laugh And start getting handsy. Sometimes they have their kids in the other room, And they yelp and laugh; when I look into these hoes Eyes, all I see is aggression. I’m not seeing myself. I’m not saying these things The way I want them to be sung. Most of my money Runs out the door. Like a bandit, Trouble likes to peep me when I’m at my worst. The cops have never been so ***** As when they see me, and they ****** Holsters. I go alone a lot. To a lot of places. Hoes, Money, Depression, Debt, Bad Credit, All kinds of Addiction, **** Alcohol, **** Codeine, Nicotine, My brain is a Chemical Frenzy, Most days I’m hovering like a mote. I graduated, Look at my degree: **** Me. I have come home to a confining place, A spit-swallowing place, full of half-breathed people And tight-lipped sorrows. I can only go when it’s convenient And necessary. I can only be when it’s part of a digression, Never progression. Food tastes like paper, I’ve taken a likening. Lights are fastened to the sky, The glue wears, washes my eyes in milk, The jewels drop, The world ends. Then it all snaps back into place, eerily, So clean I never saw it. Ask me if I can tell you about love, When I can remember your body And It’s casual thump, Clothed or not, Drunk or sober, Speaking or silent. Ask me if I can drive home and peel back the sky with my left hand, while steering Earth into oblivion, As I lean across wind-swept galaxies of dust, ash, and settled nicotine To kiss Florida Orange lips, sip the nectar of insanity, and Swerve on universe eyes.
0
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 11:09 AM UTC
Ask me about love.
I can’t really tell you About love, You. I’m interested in ******* Till I’m raw, and holding You like the universe you Are. Sometimes I go around With hoes, Smoking blunts till we fume And sing and laugh And start getting handsy. Sometimes they have their kids in the other room, And they yelp and laugh; when I look into these hoes Eyes, all I see is aggression. I’m not seeing myself. I’m not saying these things The way I want them to be sung. Most of my money Runs out the door. Like a bandit, Trouble likes to peep me when I’m at my worst. The cops have never been so ***** As when they see me, and they ****** Holsters. I go alone a lot. To a lot of places. Hoes, Money, Depression, Debt, Bad Credit, All kinds of Addiction, **** Alcohol, **** Codeine, Nicotine, My brain is a Chemical Frenzy, Most days I’m hovering like a mote. I graduated, Look at my degree: **** Me. I have come home to a confining place, A spit-swallowing place, full of half-breathed people And tight-lipped sorrows. I can only go when it’s convenient And necessary. I can only be when it’s part of a digression, Never progression. Food tastes like paper, I’ve taken a likening. Lights are fastened to the sky, The glue wears, washes my eyes in milk, The jewels drop, The world ends. Then it all snaps back into place, eerily, So clean I never saw it. Ask me if I can tell you about love, When I can remember your body And It’s casual thump, Clothed or not, Drunk or sober, Speaking or silent. Ask me if I can drive home and peel back the sky with my left hand, while steering Earth into oblivion, As I lean across wind-swept galaxies of dust, ash, and settled nicotine To kiss Florida Orange lips, sip the nectar of insanity, and Swerve on universe eyes.
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61
i spit slowly in the gutter and face you with a stutter trapped inside a bubble all my thoughts begin to muddle dripping out my ears in an incandescent puddle time takes on another form shades of grey and black. forlorn. life loses its appeal when everything is so unreal i brim so full of tears its almost tiring to conceal a luke-warm wave of bland sing along to your favourite band its always all the same every motion, word, and name run with all your fears cause life is nothing but a game slipped from this bottle into my mind just to leave it all behind drops of ice into my palm and im flooded with a calm like a murky blood red sunrise in a light grey morning dawn
0
Feb 4, 2010
Feb 4, 2010 at 9:08 PM UTC
codeine