"comedown" poems
iN & Out Of Rehab
iRelapse
Then Collapse
iNever
Commited To Sober Living So Why Are People Tripping?
Drug Programs
Are A Waste According To My Case.
im Never Going to Stop
unless i O.D And Drop
But Even iN Heaven Thats iF iRise.
With the Angel
imma Continue Tweaking Cause iM A ****** Tweaker
Or iN Hell With Fallen Angels.
It'll Be Better,
Since iSold My Soul To The Devil.
He Never Asked
iJust Gave iT Up.
iFell iN Love With A stimulant Drug made up Of Chemicals ****** Poison But idgaf il Keep Dosing.
Went From Snorting To Smoking
Methamphetamine
iLet iT Get The Best Of Me.
Part 2
Out & iN
2014 iTs Krazie
iM Back To This Dope ****
Its been Already 4 years and
Im still Addicted.
In & Out
Of Rehabs, Different Drug Programs and Sad That iStill
Havnt learned ****
Got Out November 19 2014 For The 3rd Time
And im Still Twisting, Getting Lit
Ilove Living Twisted
Im on a comedown
Im irrated right now wanting to take
Another hit.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
Do you really
Blowing smoke into my face
In my pocket a razor blade
I run my finger against it
Pick anything
Anything you want
Cough Syrup
Cigarettes
Liquor
As if you weren't white trash enough
Walk in
You are calm and no one cares
Pick anything
Anything and walk out
You own it
Some lie to themselves
Pseudophilisophical teenage masturbations
As if shoving a couple cold beers into your boxer shorts
And downing a bottle of robo in the toy section of wal-mart
*yeah bro, youv'e totally thrown a wrench into the gears of the corporate machine while we drink these cold cans of beer that were pressed against your *****
Marijuana
I wish I was alive for once
Then I wouldn't waste my time typing poems on my cellphone
While you finger your girlfriend on the couch
Sleeping on the floor is great for a while
You appreciate a safe place to sleep
Something different than the bus seats and train stations
I wish the universe didn't
Whose idea was this whole life thing anyway
Tomorrow you will wake up
And stealing DVDs from Best Buy will consume the day
I found a little bag of ****
And we are kings
Of a personnel universe
Your girlfriend
Is
eighteen
She still thinks I'm cool
Cause my General Education Diploma
I hate everything in my life
It's all breaking apart
The seams I have carefully sewn
I need to get out of here
I am tired of January
Appreciate each moment
Appreciate each moment
Because the tumor on my brain waits on nobody
I cant overcome the sense of meaninglessness
It's just the comedown
Xanax
Cigarettes 1:12 a.m
1:13 a.m
Follow my noble eightfold path to oblivion
#1 go **** yourself
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 1:19 AM UTC
you cry like lost toys and dead pets
there's nothing you can do about it right now
you cry like a small animal with a broken spinal chord
you keep whimpering, but it can only heal in time
you cry like pressing the skin of your palms
into the membranes of your eyes
when everything in your head is so cacophonous
you want to rub away all the little things you absorb
want that your hands could throw out this migraine
like a candy wrapper on the sidewalk
and if you believe hard enough that it's gone
you'll never notice the sugar rush or the comedown
so you press your hands to your face
as hard as you can and try to pray like a religious person
but you were raised christian and american and
the ways of believing and hoping and loving that you knew as a child
seem insincere now, and hard to speak
the language is not truthful
everything is what they told you it was not
nothing is what they told you it was
or everything was always what it was
and you or i could've told them that
and you think that wrapper might eventually end up in a landfill
if you go throwing it carelessly around
and sadness taken with too much sugar can be a toxic combination
so maybe making the bad things go away
is harder than throwing away the wrapper and enjoying the rush
maybe the wrapper is somewhere else now you can't get to
where you can't hear it crinkle or see it shrivel,
but you can still relentlessly feel it
getting whittled away by time and weather
while steadily melting down bits of you
as you pass your heart around
gasping inside the icebox
until one day you look up and the sun is a bloodier color
and your lungs are full of ice like pins
freezing inside of you
and when seconds before you had oxygen
as you begin choking, you think it's amazing how long
it seems to have been
since you were alive
your knuckles are dry from holding on
to a rusty ladder wrung
even when you want to move so badly
and there's nowhere to climb
you refuse to jump
and you're still trying to figure out
how to fall correctly
to break the least amount of limbs
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 6:45 PM UTC
Maybe you said it once
And breathed it quietly in my ear
As we sat in your freezing car
Parked in front of the library
The roads were slick
But you were slicker
Handing out compliments like candy
Maybe you said it a couple of times
Over and over on the telephone
As we both laughed into the receiver
Me picturing your smile with every word
The connection was weak
But I was weaker
Falling head first into you
Maybe you said it a thousand times
And held my face in your hands
As we laid in that twin sized bed
Your body pressed against my own
The room was warm
But you were warmer
Moving for the first time in sync
But maybe you never said it at all
Or at least you never meant it
As you said this was the last time
Standing on the other side of the room
The air was heavy
But I felt heavier
Fracturing me piece by piece
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 11:58 PM UTC
Wave
after wave
Of chilly fresh air
Washes over me,
Slathering me
Smothering me
In your intoxicating natural perfume,
Wafting in from the door you just waltzed through.
Confident,
Assured,
You silently entice me;
Quietly luring me into the spider's web
To devour me mercilessly ,
A wiling sacrifice to the hedonist gods.
Wrapped in your firm embrace,
I melt,
Overcome with the sensations of ecstasy and elation,
As your warm fingers wind through my hair,
Pulling -
tugging-
Bending me to the passions of the moment,
Where I exhale my simple reality,
And sink deeper into the fantasy that you lend me;
A dark and sumptuous world
Full
Of bare skin glistening in moonlight-
Writhing,
And shining
In our our titanic efforts to go to new places,
To attain new highs.
Melding-
We drink in the sultry air
As if it were the wine of the heavens,
Each breath,
a prayer to a distant god
Each sigh,
an escaping gasp of praise to the distant stars,
Bestowing their blessing upon our arching forms.
A place of exquisite torture
Where we waver in wanton abandon,
Unaware of
And without care for
the fleeting worlds around us.
We exist,
In bliss,
In utter ecstatic pleasure,
Making monuments meant to be remembered
And worshipped;
And as our sweet comedown lays us prone,
Gasping
Struggling to make sense of the sensual chaos
That just ensued
With blank minds that threaten to shut down all together
My fingers hold yours,
Locked in
And intertwined with a strong link-
Like a life raft
To carry me over
these waves of bliss.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Never let the ******** get us down
The world won’t stop, won’t be letdown
The ground won’t shatter, won’t be a breakdown
The power is out, complete shutdown
Fall to the ground, facedown
Sometimes all is not okay in the comedown
Sometimes all you have to do is slowdown
Don’t make this into a showdown
Turn it into a knockdown
Quarantined, put into lockdown
Don’t let them be a putdown
This world is a freetown.
Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 4:59 PM UTC
Seventeen
what a terrible age to be
when you were skipping in between nineteen and twen-ty
Soul mate status
you became,
tattered charm
barely onto second names
But you spoke and it grasped me
something strong
too lovelorn and lame
we went on-
Romanticising the grainy photographs
the first date talk
the promise of touch
from a distant walk
Compliments thrown around like
greetings
and it terrified me
all those would-be meetings
That rush that turned out
too intense
and the explosive goodbyes
to false pretence
But there were no real goodbyes
you just left my town
so that was the high
and this,
the comedown
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
A silhouette leaned back
Grey smoke distorted features demure;
Swirls riddled—smooth jazz syncopation
Her rouge lips cut through
The darkness.
She took a long drag on her
Cigarette, smoke rings evaporated
A halo around her.
Midnight blue eyes surveyed
The Bijou Café
Carpet pooled on the floor,
Blood soaked with wine,
Enclosed by onyx sheets,
The far wall a mirror.
A reflection of the souled and soulless.
Bar welcome strangers, friends,
The lonely.
Sharing drinks and memories
Vines intertwined customers
A perchance meeting;
Rendezvous of sorts.
Nameless faces and acquaintances
Dotted the room, a familiar skyline.
Lonely tower missing.
Smooth black fedora
Hearts sank ships as
Waves of embarrassment
Enveloped her; disappointment.
Crestfallen her eyes downtrodden
Soared with a door creak.
Black fedora entered,
Smooth—slick as oil
Eyes were hidden beneath
A veil of night;
Silence became him.
Hush fell on the crowd
As the shadow took the stage
Light pierced through,
Illuminating him.
Orbs locked
Reservation started to pass,
Voice velvet smooth
Played every heartstring
Notes of excitement
Tantalized her veins,
Pulse quickened;
Echoing every tempo change.
Music coursed through her being
Sensual; seductive
Notes caressed curves, valleys
Spaces in between.
Emotion—chord dependent
Voice penetrated skin
Music flowed through her.
A mountain peek high
Mind clouded—
Breath escaped her lungs.
Quiet murmur answered her comedown
An empty stage; stalwart eyes
Fingers replaced music
Lips brushed hers; taste—electric
Smile turned smirk; hollow presence
Musky cologne in wake.
Magnetic pull forward
Fedora exited
Midnight eyes transformed to dawn;
Abandoned beneath the awning
Familiar skyline flowed liquid.
Bijou Café
Neon sign loomed dark
Save for a letter
I illuminated.
Heart tendrils retreated,
Back to roots; betrayed
Tears turned to water
Liquid guilt—love died.
Fingers loosed
Memory;
Small matchbook of shame
Lingering of once upon a time
In the gutter; pouring rain.
Feb 19, 2010
Feb 19, 2010 at 7:56 PM UTC
She says she wants to watch the stars shoot
Drinking liquer and smoking to boot
She's the queen of rock and roll
Sign of life beyond control
Cos she, she, she, she, she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
When the worlds still buzzing
She's still glowing
Cos she, she, she, she she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
She says she wants to draw a line
Feel it rolling up her spine
She's the queen of comedown
Summer times, she gets the crown
Cos she, she, she, she, she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
When the worlds still buzzing
She's still glowing
Cos she, she, she, she she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
Take one for smiles, two for happiness
Six for the feeling of god **** emptiness
Credit card lines, do them all the time
Getting it up in a rapid climb
Cos she, she, she, she, she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
When the worlds still buzzing
She's still glowing
Cos she, she, she, she she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
Middle of the night, her liver gives in
Middle of the night, her room starts to spin
Middle of the night, supplies are getting thin
Middle of the night, crawling under her skin
Cos she, she, she, she, she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
When the worlds still buzzing
She's still glowing
Cos she, she, she, she she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
She says she wants to watch the stars shoot
Drinking liquer and smoking to boot
She's the queen of rock and roll
Sign of life beyond control
Cos she, she, she, she, she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
When the worlds still buzzing
She's still glowing
Cos she, she, she, she she's
Got a rock 'n' roll soul
Aug 12, 2010
Aug 12, 2010 at 4:17 AM UTC
me me me all me ** **** HOho ****
this the nature of the snowmen snowing
Peruvian wind blowing, hoping hoping
wonder wander with an all-night eyes-
-play-trickz and shout strange figures
peripheral dandruff / cigar / concussed
mental image of an addicts bloodied
scabs
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC
The poem is either a confession or a rifle
It remains deadly regardless
The disorder, the struggle, the heartbreak; the criminal record, the tears, the drugs, the breakdown, the music, the suicide attempt, the riot, the midnight, the fire, the comedown and the uprising
The girl you spent nights awake over, writing poems you knew could never live up, who you were always afraid would ran like hell and never looked back if she ever saw through you,
The night you got arrested, trying to spray paint a manifesto on a red brick wall because you didn't know how else to make them hear you, and you couldn't wipe your own tears through the handcuffs so you had to let your face tell everyone that you weren't as brave as you thought you were,
The boy who died just months after his 18th birthday, who never wanted anything more than to disappear and finally got his wish except in your flashes of memory and dreams of a different life,
The day you first stood in the street with your fists clenched tight around a sign you held high as God and twice as loud, and you felt ignited for the first time in your life like you could burn up everything that held the world down with a Bic lighter and unshakable conviction
So this is where you find me,
Somewhere between the personal and the political,
From the needle in the groove to the back of the squad car
From the drunken night to the show of solidarity
From the "I can't go on anymore" to the "A luta continua"
From the relapse to the rise,
You'll find me in the poem, and I'll be fighting either way
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 2:51 AM UTC
eyesopen
neverstill
Knuckles cracking, urning pills.
thewhite
goodnight
, Just Contemplate!
on such good night i couldnt wait.
to SUpress instict
,
Fears of fate.
It's so **** great
til i eat like 8
Then the next
day's worse
And I can't maintain.
I'd steal a nun's purse just to
not complain.
And
I'm not in
sane
As much as deep in pain.
I'm no citizen tamed,
said I'm siblingless Cain
Quick
&
Thick
the comedown came
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 8:23 PM UTC
I’m used to pulling all-nighters.
I’m used to very little sleep.
It’s the story of every insomniac.
But when I take a hit or do a line,
I’ll be awake for days at a time,
staying high enough to chase awake sleep.
I am on my fourth day of a binge,
and sleep continues to evade.
I don’t know if it would be worse
if i simply wait out the comedown,
or if i continue my breakdown.
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 6:54 AM UTC
It was a sensation like no other
Wide eyes and a beating heart
I felt complete, faultless
Although I was cold
This feeling kept me warm
Sister took a nail full
Of the white rough powder
And laid it upon a book
The familiar bitter taste
Infused my mouth
As I licked the pulverulent
I was full of conversation
But there wasn't much talking
For the voices in my head
Were very loud
As they were reminding me of reality
I tried to push it away
The feeling that was anticipated
But it was strong
And my content feeling
Slowly began to fade away
My stomach dropped
As my mouth ran dry
Lips chapped and hands shaking
Reality had caught me
I pulled on my hair
And covered my face
"Everyone ***** I want to die"
The only words I could speak
As I scratched at my arms
I growled and kicked
Like a cat in a brawl
Irritation filled my body
Anxiety engulfed my mind
A world of agony
I spoke aloud
But to myself
About hate and hostility
Concerned and panicked
When would this hell end?
Sister offered me more
So this misery could stop
But only to began again
When I would remember reality
When I would remember this suffering
I told her I couldn't
This unpleasant feeling was torment
I needed desistance
But that was impossible
This discomfort took time
For it seemed everlasting
At the peak of irritation
I just couldn't take it
In need of something to abolish
This feeling of affliction
Only one thing could help
It's pure white consistency
Glimmered in the light
I reached for the straw
As sister laid the powder
Atop a book
It really carries it's name well
For this heroine saved me
From the long excruciating trip
That laid before me
I praise this beautiful drug
And all of its glory
It has cured my suffering
For I feel indebted to it
Although me and heroine
May only stay friends
Considering anything more
Would keep me stuck at her side
Forever
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 8:13 AM UTC
we're all waiting in line
for the second to come
where we either fall off the cliff
or choose to jump
and get put out of our misery...
anticipation
impatience
boredom
a strangely familiar feeling of solidarity
it either feels like a waste of time
or like you have all the time in the world
either constrained
or free,
oh dear virtues of love and song!
what a slow painful bleeding
what an amazing violent relief
what a comedown
what beautiful brain swelling
an infinite white oblivion
what a sacrifice
what devotion
what passion
what music...
what a burden it must be for a musician
the bard who is to dwell in the ambivalence
the mime who wishes to sing
but remains a mute
oh cruel queue
oh manic elation
oh devestation
why must you rude & shove?
surely we can ration
is there not enough air?
this is not a line but a stampede
we remain trampled
have we not learned from the birds?
have we not learned from the herds?
we're all waiting in line
for the second to come
teetering above a white oblivion
infinite,
beautiful,
a comedown...
what a violent relief
what a slow painful bleeding
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 6:34 PM UTC
i never thought i'd be this person
addict; stealing, stealing, stealing
say it out loud, mom
your daughter is an addict
i'm not saying its your fault you couldn't have known
but you neglected your pills; you left them alone
and i couldn't resist the temptation
seen it on tv. heard it in songs. oxy
oxy.
three letters consumed me.
one taste; i was in love
god, the high
the high it was like
heaven heaven heaven
but soon, two wasn't enough
and thus came the first increased dose
three four five now six
snort them, baby. the burn!
obsessed with the burn
and my glazed eyes, god you could see the ocean
but the comedown was hell
even more so because i was used to heaven
it was hard for me to comedown
keep poppin' em so you're always up
always in the clouds
you wont understand that metaphor
unless you've been there;
unless you've seen yourself floating
breathing slowed
surrounded by white; high
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 8:00 PM UTC
" Your Life Will Be So Much and Get Better, You Will Feel Good, You Will Enjoy Things if You Drop Your Drugs."
Im Sober, i Hate it.
I Don't See Nothing Good About it.
I Don't Feel Good, i See Nothing better.
Everything just Got worse.
Im Miserable, Sad, Depressed.
Sometimes i Regret Quitting.
When i Would Get High
My Only Struggle Was To Not comedown.
Now That im Sober i Deal With So Much ****
I Argue More Then When i Would use.
I Have So many responsibilities
I Stress So Much, get frustrated
Im Not Happy At All
I Don't Have Fun
Etc
To Me
Being High is My Sober
I Don't Care About Anything
I Don't Deal With Anything
I Feel Nothing
Im In My own world that is wonderful.
Better than my life now.
Id Rather Be Addicted
Than Clean.
To Be Honest, i Hate the real world
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
I feel my heart caved into my chest
My stomach empty and rumbling
My cheeks sunken into my teeth
Chapped lips
Tired eyes
The feeling of needles into my spine
I can feel the blood rush through my veins to my finger tips
It was the worst comedown ever
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
Angel you were once so
Pure,
On earth you looked
Over us all, but temptation
Was your downfall
White power
Crack,
Crystal,
Stardust,
Was your sinful choice,
It took you to the heavens
But with every comedown
The higher did you fall,
With every injection, feathers did
Wilt,
Diminish,
Wither,
Till white turned black
Upon the wet mudded floor,
You were one of the many
Who had succumb to human
Desires,
Sins,
Pleasures,
That were the failings of
Mankind, but even the
Highest morals can falter
Before they fall,
Angel upon high
The last feather did fall,
And in to the arm injected
Pure white heaven
That turned you angel of white wings,
To a ****** human how far did you fall..
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:55 AM UTC
Freedom from addiction
Means keeping pills in relapsing distance
I just need the presence, the friction
The suffering of temptation
Released
A downward spiral
or something cliché enough to drag me to the bottom
I let go of everything once
Trying to force a flow of liberation
Misguided euphoric tide
At least for the half-life
Then the comedown
Through the noise
This kid is making a comeback
Infantilizing the sacred ground
Back to primal setting
Bursts of energy via the star nursery
These compulsions
Lead to impulsions
When the nervous system's wracked
I'll be here wrapping my head around
Trying to control the chaos
Organized crime in the mind of the attention deficit
Demanding change in this temple trashed by the afterparty.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 3:12 PM UTC