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Brad post Oct 2018
Staring at the ceiling,
what the hell is this feeling?
I can’t make up my mind,
of what’s real and what’s fake.

If I’m not dreaming,
then who is that screaming?
No one seems to hear it,
so that’s a mistake.

In front of the mirror,
and all I see is me,
but the me that I see,
is not who he seems to be.

Something’s not right,
in the little details,
in the colors and smells,
this is not re-al-i-ty.

I can see movement,
in the corner of my eyes,
something alive,
that’s not there when I look.

It’s like I’m in between worlds,
where time doesn’t exist,
the soundless abyss,
being dragged down by a hook.

This detox is different,
something is wrong,
I knew all along,
but that brings no relief.

This panic, is manic,
now I’m feeling frantic,
how can a person,
forget to breathe?

It’s feels like the weight,
on my shoulders has lifted,
but it’s only shifted,
and been placed on my chest.

My mind has grown muddy,
and I got nothing left,
fighting and struggling,
for every breath.

Clutching at myself,
as the tremors start.
Is it my heart?
Bring in the crash cart.

I hear someone say,
“place this under your tongue,
let it dissolve and don’t chew”,
but my tongue has gone numb.

I watch the walls bend,
and then I start to scream.
I’d like to believe it’s a dream,
but I’m not that dumb.

I can hear ambulance sirens,
so distant, and close,
but I’ve gone morose,
all I feel is the pain.

Houston, are you there?
All connections are down,
I can’t hear a sound,
I think I’ve gone insane.
OnwardFlame Mar 23
I was doing such a good job
Of hamming myself up.

The truth is,
It's kept me going
Since the moment of loss
The moments of success have felt so empowering
I've wanted those moments to shine,
To stay.

The ones that claim to love me the most
They see I've changed
And in some ways I know it's for the better
And in others I'm just a little lost pony girl.

I think about what I think it might take to make me happy
At long last
I imagine violence towards myself
And wonder if I was just a little bit different
If that would help.

My eyes have a weary glaze about them today
Holding the pieces that have kept me going
And dancing through this
Chaotic dream of a life I'm just trying to live.

Something changed not too long ago
I recognized in myself that though I wear my burn out on my sleeve
I'm young, full of youth, and drive
All I have to do is try to grow and release.

So I'm always trying to do that
Through all the tender caresses
Or the harsh words that leave me breathless
The endless packing and sweeping
The loving and having to immediately let go
I don't really know where any of this is taking me
And I'm out here just hoping to be liked
Hoping to be loved
Hoping to stand on my own
Hoping to dream and do.
elle Jan 5
it seeps
under my fingernails into skin
doused in clean! the filth is killed!
then I spit at it.


caress my brow in a palm, any warm pocket of flesh
a grandmother’s *****
the spine of a leaf
my dog’s velvet-soft triangle-shaped ear
anything that will let my grief get some rest

sorrow is heavy trash bag to haul

find me a bellhop or a sidewalk construction man
something with biceps and a hardened face. someone who can clean **** up.

these shards could maim a bystander
         why force one to bleed such an unnecessary truth
wouldn't want to wreck these shiny floors

better to keep it hid, better tighten my lips around it
I mean,
how do -you- feel under these fluorescent lights?
who is studying who?

I understand now my circus of an existence was born
in a tight space
between the exhausted description of my histories
-the official ones- and

these secrets,
the juicy stuff
encrypted in me
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
Tranquil orchestra
The sweetest ******* soul drinks
My flame flickers pure
Said it before, I'll say it again - Yanni's music is heavenly, and spiritually it's detoxing me from the garbage of the mainstream. (not all is garbage but majority of it is)
Working on the Meringue poem, still! ^-^
Lyn ***
Kathleen M Oct 2018
little white envelope
sealed with a promise
just like the others
open to find means to a better end
no bitter ends will you let begin
colourful notes meant to read
i love you
words not easily spoken
through clenched teeth
jaws locked
rusted with time
years spent unhinged
spoiled words spoken between lips
unforgiving winds
their destruction still left to rebuild
tension releases by passing annum
moments spent in silence
make way for healing
and days left to heal with you are unknown
days left are precious
words are simple
beholden to their potential
barriers thin but exist nonetheless
not in contempt
but in habit
detox made easier by bullet holes
of past attempts to infiltrate
your kingdom
of fatherhood
Empire Jun 7
I remember this feeling
Dizzying, exhilarating
I’ve let the darkness in too far
And for far too long
I need to irradiate myself
In the light of hope
I’ve been here before
And it’s so intoxicating
It feels honest and exciting
But I’ve been swallowing lies
I need a detox of truth
atomic blue Jul 2017
it's loneliness and misery
self-imposed solitude
in detox from gaiety
living my darkest mood
unleashing my angry self
in honesty all ****
subsisting in depression
hitting the hopeless bottom
being forgotten
by any I've known
being unforgiven
by any I've wronged

to draw her wondrous eyes
from the only face I see
letting myself rise
floating in our ecstasy
and to let the drawing burn
just to do it over again
if she asks me how much
if she asks me my plan

it's loneliness and misery
self-imposed solitude

[email protected]
Renn Powell Mar 18
my heart was started to skip beats
my hands trembling
my head was spinning
every noise i heard started to
sound like nails on a chalk board
i was confused
i reached for a body that was no longer settled into my sheets
as the pupils of my amber colored eyes had dilated
i was seeing double of you
was this a nightmare
i was detaching from you
my drug
with drawls had begun
Moonflower Jan 4
you were a wound that wouldn't stop bleeding,
i was the gauze volunteering itself.
i don't know why i never accepted that you only ever put yourself first;
i guess i thought if i loved you fiercely enough you would see that i was worth placing at least second.
i think of our softer moments and it takes all i have to keep from unravelling,
even though they only lasted as long as the summer did.
sitting beside you in your hospital bed late june,
i know now that you just needed a distraction from your detox,
and that it wouldn't have made a difference if I'd just stayed home.

it's 7:25 in the morning and i'm outside smoking a cigarette beside grass so cold that it appears blue.
nothing will rid me of my thoughts reluctantly drifting to you.
thought takes shape in the form of smoke clouds
billowing out from my lungs on this quiet morning.
i realize now what little concern i have for my own well-being.
you never warned me of how abruptly you would change;
i was the poor ******* who saw your flaws and decided to keep loving you anyway.

i think of the feeling of when we kiss and how i can almost taste your soul
and so the breakdown begins.
i loved you so tenderly.
i remember the spring.
i guess our moments were just moments to you,
but to me, they were the beginning of our life together.
James Floss Aug 2018
I have a low variable rate. I
Know enough through the cuff
When it is too high
And then when lower—
It’s variable

So, detox on the decaf
Binge Flix clips on elliptical
Keep to no salt diet result
Take the lesser stressors
Before anything else begins
Tommy Randell Dec 2016
The bed is too short for a lie-in
The wife's dog owns the settee
There's a sun lounger out in the garage
But it's winter and 7 degrees

I can hear at least 4 kinds of music
A muted electric guitar
There's a scream like a broken Jet engine
That's the wife reversing the car

My son and his mates had a late night
I can smell beer and left-over curry
The kitchen will look like a bomb-site
Which won't get cleaned up in a hurry

The heating has just gone into turbo
Yes, there's someone else in the shower
Any minute now the alarm will go off  … 'cos
I've been awake nearly two hours

It is the usual Saturday
Believe me I've been here before
It can make me tired and grumpy
And that's not what Saturdays are for ...

Two hours later and I'm startled!
Oh, I must have dropped off
There's an ominous silence around me
Like the whole spinning world has just stopped

I know they have gone out to be busy
The last thing they want is to rest
Gone shopping, breakfast or lunching
Leaving the old man to rot and the kitchen a mess

Me and the wife's dog we'll go walkies
Skim a few stones on the sea
He'll meet a few dog pals and eat a dead fish
And sit quietly down by my feet

On the way home we might call for a pint
Meet up with the lads and de-stress
I might even text with my love to the wife
Hoping her day is filled with success

Your favourite dinner I'll tell her
Tinned Pie, French fries and beans
And she will reply with a little red heart
And you know what that normally means

Plenty of time though to clean up the Kitchen
Detox the hallway, and sit on the Loo
And time left over for some sport on the telly
And a bottle of Cider or … Three!

It is my usual Dad-Friendly Saturday
With it's uptake on free-time and space
And tomorrow my wife will get her turn
And Her Sunday can take pride of place

She can cook dinner and Hoover
Catch up with her Soaps to her heart's content
I'll wander off to see the lads at the pub
And compare how our Saturdays went

Tommy Randell    01st December 2016
Matthew Roe Aug 2018
I wish you detox from drunken heights,
I’m jesus for today until my current shift ends
and the next one begins, after many nights,
in the garden centre of fallen south coast eden.

Shine shine shine
Light of mine
For now everything’s just fine

People’s faces glitter as I go by,
memories of sinless youth,
for my hands blind with nostalgia,
that my being resurrects.
The child Lazarus scurries past my side,
to his home with his future in his hands,
in my hands, cupped wide.

Shine shine shine
Light of mine
For now everything’s just fine

I can love the unfortunate,
for my fortune is golden.
Delivered in letters
from North, West, East.
My trinity circle who join me at my supper,
breaking the garlic bread and sipping the borello,
to top crab ravioli baptised in the stream of sauce.

Shine shine shine
Light of mine
For now everything’s just fine

The gates of heaven are open,
unblocked by the deaths of Keats, Shelley and Williams,
their souls not blocking the exit with an Underground Queue.
I give my blessings to
Livingstone and Charles Gordon
The one native he changed and the others’ sacrifice at Khartoum
Gained me my crown to modestly flaunt.

Shine shine shine
Light of mine
For now everything’s just fine

I float down the hall, to His Mighty Voice,
as my gold becomes a donation on the alter,
to gain the choral hymns of Mercury gilded rock gods
that will brighten my days
for now,
oh glorious moments.
For all those who were also successful on results day.
Please comment your interpretations, i'm always waiting to hear them.
B L Costello Dec 2018
He plays with himself,
He thinks he competes,
But he never wins,
And he always cheats
So long in the game,
He doesn’t know why,
He likes to keep score,
But it’s always a tie,
Clean for minute,
They call it detox,
*** in a jar,
And shadowbox,
He thinks he ahead,
You can tell by his grin,
But he’s running a race that nobody wins
©B L Costello 2018
If I could do anything
I would be controlling clocks
And go right back to that mouldy box
With the broken locks
And the electrics off
Those days when I would sold me socks for cake and drops
Whist cooking rocks
***** this K detox
I feel like a baby fox
Thats I been ***** by all 3 bears and goldilocks
But day by day with my tool box and theese building blocks
I'll build my very own fort knox
Il see the light shine when I stike the  fire from my matchbox
Listening to my old jukebox
FireheartFading Nov 2018
I am broken;
A broken man.
Something important
Has died inside.

I swore to myself,
That I would never again
Lose control of my senses,
But now, here I am...

I drank so much liquor,
I poisoned myself.
And now, every day,  
I awaken to hell.

And one week later,
I thought I'd recovered,
But then came the pills,
And calls from my mother.

There's twenty-four hours,
In each of these days,
But for those lost moments,
I lived in a haze.

Too scared to seek sleep,
For the nightmares would come,
I wished to high hell
That I still owned a gun.

I opened my eyes
And a full day had passed.
The last I remember,
I'd fell to the grass.

The cop took some pity,
And instead of jail,
He took me to detox,
It didn't end well.

The sixty-four xanax
I swallowed that night,
Still give me the shakes
And I wake up in fright.

It may not have killed me,
But it might as well,
For someone so "blessed"
I feel broken as hell.

It's been two more days,
And I can't help but think
What may have happened
If I'd stepped to the brink...

No cliff is too high,
No bayou too small,
Even now, I imagine,
Of ending it all.

My friends have all left me,
There's scars on my hands.
It serves to remind me,
I am a broken man...
Sorrow, depression, overdose
Jo Swan Dec 2018
Addicted to bad boys-
taste of toxic love leaves a toll.
Relationships flavoured with brutes;
kisses hook my naïve soul-
lips sugary as jellybeans.
Body package in suave suits,
like an ad of Vogue magazines,
they’ve become my junk food.

Addicted to bad boys
like a druggie on crack!
Their hearts can’t commit,
I’m just one of their play toys.
I seek for a dopamine hit
with the thrills of bad boys.
Bite of their love leaves me hungry,
this attraction is not healthy!

Addicted to bad boys,
they’ll laugh and be so crude.
Abusive words will whack;
arrogance as fat as greasy cheese.
Shame clogs in cholesterol plaque,
polluting my own arteries-
all ready for a heart attack.
Why do I crave such ******?

Addicted to bad boys,
addicted to bad boys,
for the sake of my health,
it is time for a detox!

(c) Jo Swan
#bad #boys #food #addiction #junk #love #relationship #abuse #unhealthy
KaylaMarie Aug 31
The lighting of the parking lot that night should have told me everything I needed to know about our fate.
The grass stains never came out of my favorite jeans from our picnic at the park which I guess I’m thankful for because I don’t need to be reminded of the way they came unbuttoned so easily that summer.
The scent of your cigarettes still linger on my sweatshirt and after four years, it’s probably time that I either wash it or throw it away.
The scent hasn’t spread to the rest of my clothes yet but somehow they seem just as tainted.
Have I told you that I only adventure during fall and winter now?
I can’t venture out in the summer without seeing the shade of your eyes in the sky and I’ve learned to despise the sun for that.
My walls and ceilings still release the sound of your laugh sometimes and it’s in those moments that I miss you the most.
I can’t wait for the day that they finally detox from the sound and are set free from the memories but I can understand why they’d want to hold onto it a little bit longer.
The spraypaint murals downtown are still painted over by your goofy grin in my mind and that gas station on the corner is still haunted with burning desire.
There isn’t much I can do to escape your ghost, but I swear to you that I’m trying.
Lakiya May 22
It’s to cluttered
Open the window to my soul
Let me be heard
Detox the negativity that surrounds me
Keeping me imprisoned in my own perception of life
Drowning me in grief
This poor soul is shattered
Making it impossible to fix
Somebody please open the **** window
My soul is crying for help
Air supply is frail
Making it hard to breathe
Maybe a little laughter is what i need
A smile that spreads like sea
Let the light seep through the crevices
Breaking me free
Kurt Philip Behm Aug 2018
Are you the hero of your own
  dime novel

Are you the toy at the bottom
  of the ******* jacks box

Are you the name on the wall
  of the public bathroom

Are you the saline solution
  they use to detox

Are you that groove in the record
  that repeats over again

Are you a promise forgotten
  carried off by a friend

Are you a serial spectator
  whose ticket’s not punched

Are you a banquet disaster
  in search of your lunch

Is your mirrored reflection
  left empty and cold

Is the one option left you
  —forlorn but foretold

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2018)
Anya Apr 11
It’s enough

over ribs
of starved love
protruding from the sand

With just one sentence
you started detox
in my poisoned by hope

Is it time
to bury my personal god
with a substitute for a funeral ?

No point to begin
the resurrection prayer

I'm here
with emptiness in my heart
which burns more
than hydrochloric acid
of rejection

Wind of renewal
is humming a song
of new opportunities

But I can’t hear it

It’s raining with shattered glass
from a broken window…

— The End —