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"dependency" poems
I awoke as a tinder wolf growling a cut shawl man dreaming of scarf’s that left the world drifting on infinite dependency I know I have to wash my human on there are cigarettes to be sung could I be a long shank man a conqueror or magician No I am tinder wolf howling, hunting more tobacco Walking silent forever an assassin
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 10:33 AM UTC
Wolf
You didn’t realise just how easy it was to slip how you can lose track lose count and how quickly a habit can become addictive Once you get the taste for the hit you find yourself reaching for it and before you know it, you’ve slipped into a dependency - fortunately this time you’re only a ***** for Lemsip
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Jun 7, 2022
Jun 7, 2022 at 4:50 PM UTC
The slip into addicted
their voices are stolen away but even if they were to get it back, their lips are welded and shackled to their fears. theistic idols shaped predominantly by the culture in which one is raised. contradictory fallacies leading society away from self dependency. im tired of being a minority! apparently your god bestowed to me this voice this brain this body this mind so... im utilizing it. i refuse to be oppressed any longer i refuse to believe i was created by some deity that claims people have the free will to do as they please. If god gave man free will, how can everything be a part of god's plans? If everything is a part of god's plans, how can we have free will? I refuse to be oppressed any longer. I dug deep within my fears and yanked my voice back. I no longer fear being a minority, I embrace it. a society where minorities are scared to have a voice? stand up, find your voice, and use it. We are more than outcasts. We are minorities and together, we can eradicate the title. We're human. - d.b.d.
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Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
a society where minorities are scared to have a voice
The way she smiles, My heart was melting Even if she needs to walk a thousand miles She never stopped on dreaming. You see her with courage At her young age But deep inside was a girl Who's still getting ready at this stage dependency was a craaaap! But standing by herself will make her to the top And so she did, She's making a step up.
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Jul 23, 2021
Jul 23, 2021 at 12:15 PM UTC
EHS
When I walked away from all the ones that cause me to hurt I thought I was doing myself a favor Not once did I thought I would come running back with new burdens that prove not only my dependency but also my fears that lurk with in the depths of myself It lead me down a different path of pain sleep was my only relief from the criticism that lives in my head cause time went faster when you turn off the lights at three in the afternoon to calm the temporary gut wrenching ache of emptiness So I lay here with tears streaming down my face and the numbness that no one will know cause there is no one I can express my feelings to There is nothing more draining then being your own supporter when you are at the same time the reason for your destruction And I cant quite understand how a pair of best friends or a pair of lovers could connect in a way as if two soul mates have lost each other thriving, craving, just full blown out mad for one another I never had that It's a terrible art indeed one that eats away your worth until you are nothing without those people that once defined everything you were I know its tempting but you have to let these grudges go the isolation will **** you otherwise Don't be afraid to bend the pages in your book there is a reason why you left those permanent creases to go back when you have gave in They'll forgive you and even more importantly you will thank yourself
0
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
The Terrible Art of Pushing People Away
Angie works the alleys that reek of greasy sausages and **** where beer-bellied men appear and vanish into doorway varnish of invisible rooms, spitting on their own doorsteps, stubby fingers running over stained vests and wire wool guts. Harry lives out yonder where plastic bags’ ballet shoes are made of glue; he is sharing a hit with a dreadlocked kid, just another invisible face, a phantom-surfer nurse, to assist him in chasing the ultimate high on highway number twenty-two. Invisible, hairy hands hold her down; Angie has to swallow, she can feel the pulsating vein of a softening **** over her tongue and swollen lips – she gives it a good old slap against her cheek, grabs the package, and makes sure no one follows. Harry’s clawing at a face in that place where reality floats between the tip of the needle and the desperate edge of chemical dependency - his little angel taps him on the shoulder; he turns around, and stabs her in the throat.
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Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 11:32 PM UTC
The Ballad of 'Heroin' Harry and 'Amsterdam' Angie and the Invisible People
It's funny: Until now I couldn't imagine dependency on substances. I didn't know how to imagine addiction. Couldn't imagine a Routine in Smoke But for the first time I got just to the edge-- went only a bit beyond. And then I forgot. I forgot to worry my head like a puff of cottonwood I didn't even have a backburner on Simmering the responsibility the inability the fragility of my self. When I woke up it was back. I had worry rushing to fill my head because it had to make up for Lost Time. and i wish i never had to stop Losing Time.
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
Routine in Smoke
I don't want to be your hero, nor your ****** Because they provide instantaneous relief but neither are free The cost, your life, surrendered to addiction And hero's are a work of fiction And I want you to love me with no dependency With out missed calls leading to withdrawals 9.2million are addicted to ****** And I want only you to be free from addiction and love me Do me a favor and don't make me just be your savior You're disillusioned into thinking I'm Jesus When I just satisfy your companionship lust You say I make you feel better But when I'm not around It seems I make things worse You say I don't of course To trick me to stay But you love me in a completely different way You need to fix yourself from the source Because I'm worn so thin And all your healing has to come from within
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Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC
Not Your ******
My conscience is loud yet my voice never comes, It's disarming what dependency can do, altering your character, until you are simply a character, weaving falsities into strands of fools gold, until you're living in an armor of the emperors new clothes. I swore to myself, that I would never again be this person, the one with my finger on the self destruct button, but sliding down the hill comes much easier than climbing. And at the bottom, numbness awaits me, making me fearless. I feel the cold wash over me, goosebumps all throughout my being, as the waves begin to rise.   She covers me, salty yet sweet, and everything makes sense. The meaning of life in a pretty peach casing. I am Invincible. I am Oblivious. She peaks and soon crashes, repeatedly against me, making me feel like the world could end and I wouldn't even think to care. But what at first seemed exhilarating, wears on me to no end, the buildup and constant let down. She's lost her novelty, and with that, the numbness fades. Sobering up for long enough to realize, I am the definition of insanity. Inviting you back in so often, I no longer have defenses against you. You snuck into my priorities without me ever noticing. Like that song you hate so much but can't help to sing. Will I ever get rid of your tune in my head? Will I ever be able to say no when you call?
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Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 8:51 AM UTC
fools gold
I'm a lost sock Longing to keep a foot from feeling cold Even though I can't cover your entire body Ill settle for an extremity Because it's true that Something really is better than nothing I was dropped between the dryer and the washing machine Forgotten about just like the paper clip and the thumbtack My mirror matching partner May have gone on to meet another But either way I lie here in lint I remember the comfort of being in a shoe When the warmth flowed through me I knew I was really getting somewhere Always aware I was part of a pair One of a two Half of a couple that together made a team Then again there was way back when I was pressed and packaged and pristine and Presented myself to people in a store Who could care less to think twice or Double take and have a second glance at me I was as unique as all the rest But I took my job very seriously Now I crave to do anything To help anyone and be of use anywhere To maybe one day be rediscovered and Perhaps reunite with my other or Become a fine furniture duster or A puppet upon the hand of a person Practicing how to be humble It's a dream and a hope and One of the few things left I'm free to have faith in They can take my feet away but They can't take everything Somewhere out there is a bare paw Chilled to the bone and shivering Stinging exposed to the world Wishing I was there Come find me Drop something worth picking up So you notice that long lost missing sock Reach and retrieve me and return me to reality I've been waiting for this forever it seems But through your eyes it's just a Routine insignificant finding Unknowing that it means the world to me and My entire existence revolves around dependency
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May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC
-Missing Sock-
I'm a lost sock Longing to keep a foot from feeling cold Even though I can't cover your entire body Ill settle for an extremity Because it's true that Something really is better than nothing I was dropped between the dryer and the washing machine Forgotten about just like the paper clip and the thumbtack My mirror matching partner May have gone on to meet another But either way I lie here in lint I remember the comfort of being in a shoe When the warmth flowed through me I knew I was really getting somewhere Always aware I was part of a pair One of a two Half of a couple that together made a team Then again there was way back when I was pressed and packaged and pristine and Presented myself to people in a store Who could care less to think twice or Double take and have a second glance at me I was as unique as all the rest But I took my job very seriously Now I crave to do anything To help anyone and be of use anywhere To maybe one day be rediscovered and Perhaps reunite with my other or Become a fine furniture duster or A puppet upon the hand of a person Practicing how to be humble It's a dream and a hope and One of the few things left I'm free to have faith in They can take my feet away but They can't take everything Somewhere out there is a bare paw Chilled to the bone and shivering Stinging exposed to the world Wishing I was there Come find me Drop something worth picking up So you notice that long lost missing sock Reach and retrieve me and return me to reality I've been waiting for this forever it seems But through your eyes it's just a Routine insignificant finding Unknowing that it means the world to me and My entire existence revolves around dependency
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If I could simply overcome Possessive nouns and vowel sounds I would not need to study ****** Heavy lies’ beheaded crowns But you make martyrs with your charter School exclusive service sector To systemically condemn me To the destitution nectar Of the corner story ****** Potential Cinderella caged in The statistics of the mathematic Overdose equation Comatose’n like a Holy Ghost Of tranquil ranking party skanks Whose tanks plan out the projects For the boys still shootin’ blanks And then the slavers liberate Some nation-state of god forsaken Oil barons salivate To taste the poison Apple’s stake in Stock in stuffer markets takin’ All the products people makin’ Privatizing profit-docket lawless Mother Nature rapin’ For some scarcity disparities In wealth I can’t attain You keep me feeding on the bottom From the top, you make it rain So as the brains continue drainin’ In amenity dependency I tinker with the inner-machinations Now the enemy You’ve made me out to be you see My generation’s future’s bleaker Than the past in full HD
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
What Cuts to Education Spending Do to Kids in a Global Capitalist Cesspool of Gory ****** Poverty, and Drug-Addicted Killing Sprees
I was walking on the seashore when I heard a fearful cry I looked out across the water where a man was drifting by "You've got to help!" he shouted, "There's a lifebelt in your reach, "If you throw it to me quickly I'll get back onto the Beach!" I hastily began to do exactly as he said When a little word of warning made its way into my head. "You reckon this will help," I said, "that is what you believe, "But to trust short-term solutions here is hopelessly naive. "You think the belt will save you, and for now maybe it would "But to teach a faulty lesson here could do more harm than good "You want something for nothing and that just is not the way "In the sophisticated economic climate of today - "You need trade! You need trade, not aid "You need trade! I can't help until you've paid. "You say that you're in trouble and my help is all you need "But a culture of dependency is all that it would breed!" "What's wrong with you, you maniac?" he answered with a yell, "I'm drowning in the ocean and there's nothing here to sell! "We can talk about your theories when I'm back upon the shore "Now just throw the ****** life-belt out, I beg you, I implore! "You have it in your power and you know that if you can "You've a moral obligation to assist your fellow man!" I told him, "You are selfish! This is difficult for me, "D'you think a drowning person is a pleasant thing to see? "You shouldn't be in the water if you haven't learned to swim!" He said "You no-good lousy ******* it was you who pushed me in!" Well this kind of moral blackmail made me look at him, aghast And say, "There really is no virtue here in dwelling on the past, "You need trade! You need trade, not aid "You need trade! I can't help until you've paid. "You say that you're in trouble and my help is all you need "But a culture of dependency is all that it would breed!" "Don't be so pessimistic," I advised him, "you are rich! "The sea in which you're drowning must be lowping full of fish!" "If that's what you're relying on," he said, "to judge my wealth, "Then you know that I have nothing, 'cos you caught them all yourself!" I said, "Well, you can't argue with the laws of competition "You were wasting time by drowning when you should have been out fishin'!" When finally he died I said, "My brother, I will miss you, "But maybe more importantly, you've highlighted an issue: "Drowning is a problem, and believe me, now you're gone, "I'll be on the phone to Geldof, Ultravox and Elton John. "We'll organise a concert so that everyone can see "That drowning is a menace, we should make it history! "Using trade! Using trade, not aid, "Good, free trade, the grestest plan we've ever made, "You say that you're in trouble and my help is all you need, "But a culture of dependency's a rotten thing to breed!"
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Dec 6, 2010
Dec 6, 2010 at 4:25 AM UTC
Trade Not Aid
I was walking on the seashore when I heard a fearful cry I looked out across the water where a man was drifting by "You've got to help!" he shouted, "There's a lifebelt in your reach, "If you throw it to me quickly I'll get back onto the Beach!" I hastily began to do exactly as he said When a little word of warning made its way into my head. "You reckon this will help," I said, "that is what you believe, "But to trust short-term solutions here is hopelessly naive. "You think the belt will save you, and for now maybe it would "But to teach a faulty lesson here could do more harm than good "You want something for nothing and that just is not the way "In the sophisticated economic climate of today - "You need trade! You need trade, not aid "You need trade! I can't help until you've paid. "You say that you're in trouble and my help is all you need "But a culture of dependency is all that it would breed!" "What's wrong with you, you maniac?" he answered with a yell, "I'm drowning in the ocean and there's nothing here to sell! "We can talk about your theories when I'm back upon the shore "Now just throw the ****** life-belt out, I beg you, I implore! "You have it in your power and you know that if you can "You've a moral obligation to assist your fellow man!" I told him, "You are selfish! This is difficult for me, "D'you think a drowning person is a pleasant thing to see? "You shouldn't be in the water if you haven't learned to swim!" He said "You no-good lousy ******* it was you who pushed me in!" Well this kind of moral blackmail made me look at him, aghast And say, "There really is no virtue here in dwelling on the past, "You need trade! You need trade, not aid "You need trade! I can't help until you've paid. "You say that you're in trouble and my help is all you need "But a culture of dependency is all that it would breed!" "Don't be so pessimistic," I advised him, "you are rich! "The sea in which you're drowning must be lowping full of fish!" "If that's what you're relying on," he said, "to judge my wealth, "Then you know that I have nothing, 'cos you caught them all yourself!" I said, "Well, you can't argue with the laws of competition "You were wasting time by drowning when you should have been out fishin'!" When finally he died I said, "My brother, I will miss you, "But maybe more importantly, you've highlighted an issue: "Drowning is a problem, and believe me, now you're gone, "I'll be on the phone to Geldof, Ultravox and Elton John. "We'll organise a concert so that everyone can see "That drowning is a menace, we should make it history! "Using trade! Using trade, not aid, "Good, free trade, the grestest plan we've ever made, "You say that you're in trouble and my help is all you need, "But a culture of dependency's a rotten thing to breed!"
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Pathological neurotic co-dependency, Rhymes with toilet brush gastroendoscopy, I visualise that toilet brush, Shoved down his throat thrush, Or up his male **** Not even an excuse for a man, Bullies don't get, says my nan, Way too early to be awake, Way too early to cook him steak, What does he think he's going to eat? That toilet brush he'll meet and greet, Pathological neurotic co-dependency, Rhymes with toilet brush gastroendoscopy, All budget friendly and medicine free, (Guess who swallowed the dictionary!!!!)
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Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC
CO-DEPENDENCY
Black A thumping heartbeat Distant vocal sounds Then light and love Dependency Curiosity Communication Joy Creativity Education Awe Respect Disrespect Comradery Individualism Tribalism Recklessness Lust Love Heartbreak Hopelessness Soul searching Understanding Trust Empathy Maturity Desire Love Babies Selflessness Responsibility Nurture Wonder Teaching, endless teaching Let go Let go Let go Review Regret Reinvent Rediscover Relive through grand kids Leave your mark Not a stain Your life ends it's final wane Then humbly... back to Black
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
Life.
A perfectly linear shape painted in gold Is what you see Through Instagram pictures Facebook posts Snapchat videos The tacit life I lead in the virtual stairway I am living the life! So you say You painted my life in the most shimmering color Turn on every light in the room to make it brighter Gazing with admiration Sometimes Most of the time With jealousy Seduced by the lure of the blue light dependency Turning this perfect lie into some meditation And make it my definition An image I’ve built to cover the within A perfect fragmented me I post on social media A habit I borrow for social gatherings A behavior forced into me For the sake of society! An illusion so fragile made out of eggshell A shell covering the true essence of ME Uncovering myself for the world to see The egg wall and make believes shattering To life unpredictable burdens That perfect golden shell cannot bare life’s hurdles Holding something beautiful that doesn’t curdle I am more of what you see More of what I let you believe More of society’s standards More of you More of me I contained beauty and imperfections I contained colors and bricks Strengths and weaknesses Enough to **** in all life’s miseries And to also reflect confidence and vulnerabilities I am not just one color I am every shades Every undertones Every hues that follow the changes I am the intense The neon The eclectic The iridescent From the lightest to the darkest The contrasting The complementing The chromatic I am in nature in art in paintings Everywhere I am every northern lights dancing to my own ballet Don’t just paint me with your own palettes Crack me open And see what’s inside For there you will see My true colors
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Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 12:57 PM UTC
True colors
A perfectly linear shape painted in gold Is what you see Through Instagram pictures Facebook posts Snapchat videos The tacit life I lead in the virtual stairway I am living the life! So you say You painted my life in the most shimmering color Turn on every light in the room to make it brighter Gazing with admiration Sometimes Most of the time With jealousy Seduced by the lure of the blue light dependency Turning this perfect lie into some meditation And make it my definition An image I’ve built to cover the within A perfect fragmented me I post on social media A habit I borrow for social gatherings A behavior forced into me For the sake of society! An illusion so fragile made out of eggshell A shell covering the true essence of ME Uncovering myself for the world to see The egg wall and make believes shattering To life unpredictable burdens That perfect golden shell cannot bare life’s hurdles Holding something beautiful that doesn’t curdle I am more of what you see More of what I let you believe More of society’s standards More of you More of me I contained beauty and imperfections I contained colors and bricks Strengths and weaknesses Enough to **** in all life’s miseries And to also reflect confidence and vulnerabilities I am not just one color I am every shades Every undertones Every hues that follow the changes I am the intense The neon The eclectic The iridescent From the lightest to the darkest The contrasting The complementing The chromatic I am in nature in art in paintings Everywhere I am every northern lights dancing to my own ballet Don’t just paint me with your own palettes Crack me open And see what’s inside For there you will see My true colors
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( or also entitled : Just How Much ******** Are You Prepared to Believe) Confidence - grandiosity Hope - Delusion Ambition - grandiosity + delusion Love - Co-dependency Unrequited Love & romantic hopes - Erotomania Sexuality - Hypersexuality Happiness - Manic mood Sadness - Depression Shock - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Emotional - Bipolar Fear - Paranoia/psychosis Distrust - Suspicion ( e.g paranoia) Loneliness - Neediness Needing connection to others - Co-dependant Existential doubts - suicidal Spiritual awakening - psychosis Sarcasm - Aggression Loner - socially-withdrawn Messy - self-neglectful Angry - dangerous/violent Faith - dangerous Religisiosity dubious combination of some of the above : Schizophrenia Note : All of these need drugs to 'cure' them so the drugs companies can make a fortune & pay you a premium. Where did you think the money for your salary came from?
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 10:38 AM UTC
The Psychiatrist's/ Consultant Doctors Dictionary
Stage One - Experimentation: I've seen it before, on movies and television shows. The peer pressure, the giving in, the going back again. And that's exactly what it felt like to me. The pressure of your hand against the small of my back, The way my body fell apart at your touch, Like an ancient foundation crumbling, And the desire that stirred in my chest to feel your touch once more. At first, I only wanted a taste of you. But the thrill that you brought me was something not easily forgotten. Stage Two - Regular Use: It became a casual thing, Feeling you coursing through my bloodstream. A knock on the door like the prep of a needle, And your hand pulling me in like the ***** of skin, And within seconds, a high I couldn't recognize, As though I was walking on the sky and the Grass was tickling my eyelashes, And your fingers were pressed Into the dimples in my hips. Step Three - Risky Use/Abuse: Before I knew it, I was lying awake, Wide-eyed in bed at night, Imagining your fingertips Tracing the inside of my thighs. So I brought my pillow and blanket And pitched a tent at the foot of your bed. Then swore to myself I'd never leave your house again. Step Four - Drug Dependency: A minute without your breath against my neck Causes my chest to burn and my knees to shake, But every time your breath fills my lungs, I can feel the years of my life falling away. Your lips are my nourishment, Your sighs are my fluids, And your kiss is my IV drip. Every part of you has consumed every inch of my thoughts, Even the dusty corners I have forgotten about, And with every gentle touch, I can feel the withering of my heart, Like a flower never to bloom again, But it's a beautiful destruction.
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Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 10:05 PM UTC
Four Stages of Addiction
Stage One - Experimentation: I've seen it before, on movies and television shows. The peer pressure, the giving in, the going back again. And that's exactly what it felt like to me. The pressure of your hand against the small of my back, The way my body fell apart at your touch, Like an ancient foundation crumbling, And the desire that stirred in my chest to feel your touch once more. At first, I only wanted a taste of you. But the thrill that you brought me was something not easily forgotten. Stage Two - Regular Use: It became a casual thing, Feeling you coursing through my bloodstream. A knock on the door like the prep of a needle, And your hand pulling me in like the ***** of skin, And within seconds, a high I couldn't recognize, As though I was walking on the sky and the Grass was tickling my eyelashes, And your fingers were pressed Into the dimples in my hips. Step Three - Risky Use/Abuse: Before I knew it, I was lying awake, Wide-eyed in bed at night, Imagining your fingertips Tracing the inside of my thighs. So I brought my pillow and blanket And pitched a tent at the foot of your bed. Then swore to myself I'd never leave your house again. Step Four - Drug Dependency: A minute without your breath against my neck Causes my chest to burn and my knees to shake, But every time your breath fills my lungs, I can feel the years of my life falling away. Your lips are my nourishment, Your sighs are my fluids, And your kiss is my IV drip. Every part of you has consumed every inch of my thoughts, Even the dusty corners I have forgotten about, And with every gentle touch, I can feel the withering of my heart, Like a flower never to bloom again, But it's a beautiful destruction.
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I let the beat come in so can I commit a sin again, With my friends, asking does this madness really ever end? It’s cyclical, repetitive and cynical, I’m a loser lost in the place where winners go, Like a maze, without an exit in sight, These type of thoughts keep me awake every night, I can’t get an ounce of sleep, so I get a gram of dro, And that keeps me problem free for an hour or so, I know it’s wrong, sort of physiological dependency, I struggle, feeling like the weight of the world’s been set on me, I’m disassociated until I get a beat to slay, because Writing helps me find just right where my place is, If not, I get wasted, a drunk punk, faceless, I know I’ve got a problem, but i’m too scared to face it..
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Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 8:09 PM UTC
Emotionless Motions
Sometimes the temptation to succumb to you is far too strong for me to bare. I long to feel some sense of numbing and I know that caving into you will accomplish just that. Then I face the harsh reality that at some point I will have to suffer. Rather it now or later, I will have to open myself to that hurt and heal.
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Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 12:32 AM UTC
Dependency
I admit that my life Is still an absolute disaster But to think of all I've endured And where I've reached I can say I'm proud I'm proud that It's been almost one year Since I last cut And I'm proud That I no longer Have dependency on a therapist And well now I can sleep in Saturdays And I'm happy I'm his forever And I'm proud we've been together For this long I'm stressed And nothing is ever perfect Because life is not Perfect And it never will be But as of now I'm okay I'm happy even And sure I've been crying again But being a teenager And a female Gives me the right to break down When stressed and I know Change is coming And coming fast But I'll take it best I can And try to make things Work out in my favor I'm not who I use to be And that makes me proud I'm someone who smiles And can laugh I can breathe without A broken heart Or a weight on my shoulders And despite my responsibilities I'll survive where I am You see I finally have something to be Proud of Life My life and how I've grown How I try Each and every day I try my hardest And no one can tell me I don't Because when I wake up I know my heart found its Keeper And with him Everything else has finally Begun to fall into place And if it takes some time and effort I'll make sure Everything ends up okay I won't go back Not EVER.
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Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 8:00 PM UTC
Proud
I attack myself. Wanting to hold onto you, Loving that I see you you everywhere. Hating this dependency, Disgusted by what is now roaming free in my mind and soul. These thoughts of having hurt, These thoughts of causing hurt. Most of all I fear the need for hurt. I am so desperate for water. There are springs overflowing with life, Rivers running rapid with love. Still I travel painfully into a desert to seek water from a cactus. Bleeding with every attempt, Thorns left beneath my skin. Once I break through for the small drops of water there, I find that they were never meant for me. I deserve to splash in the water, Swim in the ocean, Dance in the rain. I deserve life and love, Honesty and trust. How is it that pain can out way pleasure? That hurt can out way love? That cacti can out way the water of life?
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May 30, 2010
May 30, 2010 at 2:45 AM UTC
Loving A Cactus
The ancient banyan tree is huge, its parallel trunks, Go across , spiral out, spread  branches, Sheltering birds; doves or eagles, it doesn't bother. Above that a kite lost  mid way on  its pleasure flight aimlessly circles. A grey half moon tries to remain inconspicuous in the day light. A single engine Cessna sky hawk from Bangalore flying club, Laboriously crawl across the sky like an overeaten caterpillar. He remains, Oblivious of the world around, and its many preoccupations. Within a craggy nook created by the irregular stem of the banyan, The old man sits like an idol, totally alien to the world, that is in its Nataraja's dance* A long, grey, shaggy beard; serene radiant face, Stunning  any one, looking at him with the contentment blooms there, a radiant flower. His rags for long time has not seen water, its obvious, A soiled turban around his head is tightly tied, yet  he looks regal. He is silence personified, has no needs, it seems. He breathes freedom day and night, no dependency on others, Sounds, discordant and confusing, from the nearby road, fails even to touch him, The dust wind that circles around, only creates a halo for him. A plastic bag full of stuff, his worthless belongings, lie by his side, like a severed head. An old news paper he holds, to shield him from the setting sun's attention. On the third day I found out, he has friends. Though there seems no need to speak, words are too precious to waste, isn't it what he implies? A dark, frail woman driving back her buffalo and its calf after grazing in the fields, Stops in front of him smiling, he smiles back; for the first time I saw a smile speaking to another. A silent exchange of feelings, I could experience, even  in nature, since then. An awakening he brought. Every time I watch him, with an open mind, the contentment I see, recites wordless poems
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May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 10:33 AM UTC
Contentment, a poetic expression
The ancient banyan tree is huge, its parallel trunks, Go across , spiral out, spread  branches, Sheltering birds; doves or eagles, it doesn't bother. Above that a kite lost  mid way on  its pleasure flight aimlessly circles. A grey half moon tries to remain inconspicuous in the day light. A single engine Cessna sky hawk from Bangalore flying club, Laboriously crawl across the sky like an overeaten caterpillar. He remains, Oblivious of the world around, and its many preoccupations. Within a craggy nook created by the irregular stem of the banyan, The old man sits like an idol, totally alien to the world, that is in its Nataraja's dance* A long, grey, shaggy beard; serene radiant face, Stunning  any one, looking at him with the contentment blooms there, a radiant flower. His rags for long time has not seen water, its obvious, A soiled turban around his head is tightly tied, yet  he looks regal. He is silence personified, has no needs, it seems. He breathes freedom day and night, no dependency on others, Sounds, discordant and confusing, from the nearby road, fails even to touch him, The dust wind that circles around, only creates a halo for him. A plastic bag full of stuff, his worthless belongings, lie by his side, like a severed head. An old news paper he holds, to shield him from the setting sun's attention. On the third day I found out, he has friends. Though there seems no need to speak, words are too precious to waste, isn't it what he implies? A dark, frail woman driving back her buffalo and its calf after grazing in the fields, Stops in front of him smiling, he smiles back; for the first time I saw a smile speaking to another. A silent exchange of feelings, I could experience, even  in nature, since then. An awakening he brought. Every time I watch him, with an open mind, the contentment I see, recites wordless poems
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In my chemical dependency class we have to write down days sober chemically, and says sober emotionally. Days sober chemically: 55 Days sober emotionally: 75 But they don’t ask how many days it has been since I thought of you. They don’t teach you how to control cravings for a person. I could write a book on ways to control the urges to smoke a joint, but I am helpless as to how to prevent myself from texting you. I don’t have withdrawl symptoms from *** or ***** I do have symptoms of a broken heart. I can’t remember the last time I used, but I can remember the last time I felt your skin against mine. Last time I took a shot was, I don’t remember when. Last time I felt your lips against mine, was on the 29th of November. I don’t have a craving for **** or ***** but I do have a craving for you. I can stop smoking whenever I want. I can stop drinking whenever I want. But I can’t quit you. Because, baby, you’re the monkey on my back. You don’t encourage me to drink or smoke, You encourage me by existing. They say that we all have the power to be sober, But, what if I don’t want to be sober? Because when I become sober from you, Is when you have passed through.
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Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
Sober
I once met a man who read my bellybutton. He told me that the two horizontal lines meant I have internal and external insecurities. I scoffed at the idea that those things could disappear from mortal souls. He then pointed to the bottom vertical line, the most noticeable, and told me that meant my biggest insecurity was my reproductive organs. I smiled small. Should I tell him about the dead baby or instead of the riley women who have male dependency. I chose the latter, for Im not sure if the kid is still dead. I could hear her screams in late night alleys for two years after. She haunts my horror dreams, singing we could have lived happily ever after. Instead, Ill chose the story of my stepfather who called me a ***** and cried to my mother that I was trying to ****** him with training bras and black eye liner. 'Did he hurt you?' 'of course, but so did my mother- and I've learned to forgive those who chose life over freedom.' It's more than I've done.
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Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
O. One Last Cigarette Before Midnight