"inject" poems
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If you are a demon
then send me to Hell
If you are a witch
then take me with your spell
If you are a drug
Then in my vein inject
If you’re a psychosis
Let my life be wrecked
If choosing to stay
Then a price must be paid
Sign a contract in blood
I'm forever your slave
You're heartless and cold
The Devil, you might be
Yours to torture forever
Just don't ever leave
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Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 11:25 AM UTC
Let me be the substance of your addiction....
Swallow me whole or drink me up
Or in hale me and let me fill you up.
Let me be the substance of your addiction
Snort me up...
.inject me ....
.poor me till you get your fill
roll me up...
light me up ....
or pop me like a pill .....
I want to be that feeling the one you love so much,
but let it be my laugh....my kiss.... my love and the way we touch.
I want to be your addiction the way that you are mine .
I want to consume everything your body mind and time.
I want you to get drunk off my lips
And make you forget what to say .
I want to be your drug,
I want to be your special K
I want to fog your brain with passion as you drawl me in and get high and not take much.
I want to make you feel invincible on top of the world with just one touch.
I want to be your addiction I want to run through your veins .
I want to be your addiction I want to cure your pain .
I want to be your addiction your euphoria of love.
I want to be your addiction I want to be your drug.
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
Filaments fixed on your eyes all night
and the possibility of a chance, of an opportunity,
that I’ll be able to talk to you,
because the club lights are blue
stretched like animal hide across your own hide:
complexion clear cheeks still rouged
though tidal club glow is still blue.
It’s pathetic, worse than any diabetic
with their HumaPen Memoir insulin
length of pen, recording the time
and date
and precise amount of pain
they inject from the last 16 doses.
My pen is my keyboard and records
miserable times
and forgotten dates in cafes
and precise amounts of pain,
though this diabetic is a pathetic poet
and he knows it.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
Looking back, memories distort.
Replace damaged nodes with something similar
Perhaps reconstructed
From previous set-up before
X and Y parameters Report
Step One:
Check patient notes to self
Re-calculate from de-constructed
Inject imagination
Respect self-defence mechanism
or immediate virus node termination
(a response attack organism)
Re-calibrate instruments awareness
Strip upgrade
Love version 4.1
Reboot only in emergency
Refer to install options
Error:
Temporal Lobe Anomaly
Virus detected
Internal nodes infected
Import Rejection version 3.2
and couple with
Lets Be Friends upgrade 1
(Advanced program)
Monitor assimilation
Danger!
Overheated components -
Re-inject Memory Node
Objective Hindsight applet.
Refer to Step One
It is now safe to shut down
Should you wish to.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 8:09 AM UTC
Through the serpentine path
Concealed from prying eyes
Walks the courageous heart
Towards a destination unknown
Numerous fangs, ready to bite
To inject the venomous intent
And incapacitate the heart
Seeking the unachievable
The braveheart dodges hurdles
Stares down fear itself
Arduous journey takes its toll
Small sacrifice to reach the pinnacle
Where none have been before
Will be written in folklore
Valiant one who walked the path
None dared to tread before
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
I. the smell of sad
odorless colorless like ***** similar familiar sidewinder effects,
musty invasive, it has no specificity, no locale centrale, well closeted,
saddling sadding, in place, plain sighted better to toy our lives,
pervades persists, worse lingers, impervious to sprays
and even everyone’s good literature (even Will S’s),
good wishes good intentions and mood prayers
to the nearest lay god
on duty at the spiritual emergency room on weekends,
still stink
don’t think that this poem is for you; solely for the writer,
your doppelgänger ****** your mirror’s inside hiding out place,
I,
who has your sadness smell into my skin cells creepily crept
waft woof and warp wet weft-woven
into the sad receptacles hidden in my
head’s cubbies and the palms of my tree hands-covering face
there are cures so wonderful and inexpensive but unavailable
at the local Rite Aid, though they are the right aid recoverable,
so closer than close, so close that the internist
cannot prescribe them because he must inject himself first
because the live bacteria in the antidote can **** all
this odor lays down bamboo-strong roots;
to eradicate you must dig down deep,
six feet perhaps more, with heavy earth moving equipment,
uproot at the source, follow sad always all-the-way down and the root
great god gone,
but the saddest truth
stench odor yet present***
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 10:54 AM UTC
I speak of love
when I compare you to
sweet summers day
or a rose of its garden
I speak of passage in the sea of time
when I say
forever or always
whichever tide ebbs first.
I speak of knowledge
when I say
the body of a young lady is heavenly
but a womans' decidedly divine
I speak of faith
when I say
nothing good
ever became
without an
inject of pain
I speak of fear
when I used to say
you'd be gone some day
but now I know,
love transcends the grave
© Qwey.ku
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 11:55 PM UTC
He doesn't need Intra Ocular Lenses,
To dismember my defenses.
Without a Stethoscope,
He can hear my heart,
He won't have to take an MRI scan,
To know where to start.
He won't need to inject a syringe,
To romantically unhinge,
My every multiplying cell,
Into a palpitating craze.
He won't need a lubricating gel,
To ****** and amaze.
He won't require to operate
Nor investigate,
Me from head to toe,
To plainly know,
That I'm besotted,
my insides knotted,
My better sense clotted,
In deep rooted feeling,
Of immense love.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
I could inject a gram of you
straight into my veins.
And when the paramedics arrive,
to find me incoherent,
half dead in a pool of my own waste,
your name will still be on
the tip of my tongue.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
I wish I could be a super-hero.
I wish I could be your super-hero.
But most of all I would want to be your Bee-Man.
Flying over continents and oceans,
over forests and gardens,
until I found you,
my Rose Queen,
my super-powers would detect
your pink petals
from far off.
Down I would fly,
drawn by the fragrance of you
to the exquisite beauty
of your blushing petals
silkily emerging from the heart of you,
unfolding for me,
welcoming me to your secret treasure.
Gently but firmly
my long, loving tongue would press
between those dew-moistened folds,
unable to resist the perfume
overcoming me.
Tugged in
by your intoxicating scent,
your nectar I would sup
until I could drink no more.
Then transforming
the sweet nectar
you had so willingly granted me,
I would create my rich, creamy honey,
especially for you,
so willingly penetrate
between your soft petals,
find your hidden depths,
and to repay you for the delight
your fragrant nectar had given me,
magically inject my honey,
into the essential heart of you,
until my store was empty,
and we could both feel
the most exquisite joy of all.
I hope that you dream of it as I do,
that you wish it also,
and that some day our dreams can come together.
And if you and I could come
together
in ecstasy,
it would be the most perfect fulfilment possible
of my desire.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 2:36 PM UTC
I inject you into my arm
You run laps in my blood
Swimming for days in a lustful craze
Inside my brain you have your stay
Sleeping silently in the day
But at night come out to play
Invading my memories
Making it a thicket
Now you know everything that makes me wicked
Playing drums on my rib cage you sail to my heart
Leaving me aching, weary, and sickened
"Are you mine?" You whisper and beckon
"Forever and ever!" I answer
Unended
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
She's like a disease
Just breathe it in
He is infected
With the girl
of his dream
s
Inject me with your love
I'm inspired by your lust
Baby, we can make a memory
In the backseat of my car
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 6:02 AM UTC
If I could take every ounce of your pain
and inject it into my veins
I would in a heartbeat
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC
She's got her eyes on her hand holding somebody else's
and she's got tiny planets stuck on her tongue
She doesn't understand how nice his hands felt covering hers,
how it reminded her of cotton fields
Funny how he has cotton candy smiles to match everything else about him
He makes her want to shed her skin twenty times
until she's clean enough to touch
But he also makes her want to grab a syringe
and inject some insulin into her bloodstream—
The whole thought of him frightened her to catatonic
and she knew her diabetic heart cannot handle such sweetness
She wants so much to let go of his hand
but he would smile and he would laugh and he would be
heavenly
and she would hate herself for ruining this
So she watches on at her hand holding somebody else's
and grit her teeth to the tiny planets exploding in her mouth
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 6:50 PM UTC
I'm addicted to you
And everything you do.
All the pain you put me through.
It's like a drug you put inside me.
Trying to keep me same
But instead your driving me insane.
I stayed up late last night
All because you started a fight.
I'm addicted to you
And everything you do.
All the paid you put me through.
It's all because I stay with you.
I hang on by every word you say.
As I inject you straight to my veins.
The way you kiss me.
The way you move your hands around me.
It's so seducing.
I can not help but wanting more.
Without you I can feel my withdraws.
Breaking all of the laws.
I'm addicted to you
And everything you do.
Even with all the pain you put me through.
I just cannot be without you.
The words of your mouth.
Hatred and anger.
The touch of your hand
Sends me a tingling sensation.
I keep going back to you.
Even though I say I am through with you.
As I inject you.
Withdrawls without you.
Is too much pain to handle.
I'd rather be with you.
Just hold my hand.
Please understand.
I'm addicted to you
And everything you do.
All the pain you put me through
I still come running back to you.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
My heart bleeds blue at midnight. I heard owls hooting in my despair. Alone ,I lay naked underneath the beaming moonlight. I touch slowly my neck and close my eyes. Thinking of a predator I been waiting for a lifetime slowly slithering its warmth on my thighs.So preciously antagonizing my soul with its piercing eyes.It's breath is an intimidating musical hiss. I crave it's injection. Hiss between every piercing kiss.I touched myself harder as the owls hooted into the moonlight. I needed you. Imagining my predator teasing my heated skin with its cold fangs. Immensely waiting for its long hollow teeth to pierce me. While wishing, it instantly became the predator of my heart as it slither around my skin.The music began to start.Predator started to taunt, looking for the sweetest fatal bite.My soul began gasping harder, My predator, oh please prey on me harder.Slither uncontrollably, slither harder as my breaths change heavily. Predator inject itself slowly through every bite.Oh I am in love.It was perfect dosage. This is love. Intoxicating every blood vessel of my body.Every bite,I felt more yours. I instantly became weaker, your bite was the perfect dosage for the **** It was perfect dosage.The perfect poison. This was love. The perfect ********** Underneath the moonlight , vivaciously sweating naked I screamed. Longing more for your touch.The owl hooted once more, morning has come.
I awake , I was loved for the first time.
With its injection ,
The predator righteously own my crimson heart
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 3:21 AM UTC
Where, oh where has this money been?
It's been up to London to buy me a woman.
When you'd had your pleasure, what else did you there?
Took in a live show, some sights to enjoy.
When you had seen, what did you then?
Went home to the wife, a yarn to spin.
Did you not waste such hard-earned cash?
I need the excitement, the seedy thrill.
Where, oh where has this money been?
Changed hands in a back street for needle and syringe.
What was then done to inject some feeling?
A little ****** just to keep me going.
But what about AIDS and ***
It's one of those things that won't happen to me.
How do you finance such expensive tastes?
Sell stuff to kids at the going rate.
Where, oh where has this money been?
It bought me a meal and a little something to drink.
How did you earn this financial gain?
Begged it off some geezer down the Embankment.
Why are you out here sleeping so rough?
It's a long tale of women, gambling and drink.
What of these others with whom you share this door?
Just poor bleeding kids with no ******* jobs.
Where, oh where has this money been?
It bought me a contract with a few back handers.
And who did you bribe for their deceit?
Oh, it wasn't bribery, just a little commercial grease.
What will you build to make your mark?
Another block of flats, fully air-conditioned.
On what in the past is your empire built?
Prostitution, gambling, and a few tons of drugs.
Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 1:40 PM UTC
A love once
so new so sweet
gone in the night
Once A Lover
Now an innocent victim.
Enters Lust
Like a moth to the flame.
You lay lowly
Waiting
Longing
The moment
To ****** my innocence.
Inject me with your bitter poison.
The moment to ****** my purity.
Once an innocent love
Now a dark obsession.
Once a happy ending
A bitter nightmare.
Once a beautiful love
Now a dark pleasure
Now lust lives.
Once innocence lived
Now fear lives
Hate lives
Obsession lives.
I gave you my heart
You crushed it
I gave you my all
You gave me hell in return.
God **** it,
What do you want from me?
I can't breathe
In your presence I am an empty shell.
I am nothing
In your deadly embrace.
You try to tame me
You try to break me.
You try to ****** my innocence
Listen closely,
I can't be tamed sweetheart
You can't break me.
You wont take my innocence from me.
Unlike you I am strong
My armor impenetrable.
Go ahead try and break me
I dare you
You'll lose.
I will not fall
I will not be shaken.
Get the hell out of my face.
Your lies don't belong here.
It's over
There isn't you and I anymore.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 4:38 AM UTC
I.
This year I've done nothing remarkable,
because that wasn't on my syllabus.
But,
I did learn how to make conversation
with an empty locker,
because you weren't one of the students
who'd had gone off on Exchange.
II.
This year I've done nothing worth remembering,
because my timetable had no place for memories.
But,
I did learn how to inject meaning
into moments were there were none,
because you weren't one of the poems
in my last English paper.
III.
This year I've done nothing for my soul,
because I'm just a candidate number.
But,
I did learn how to learn how my examiners
think. Past papers are the future,
and you aren't one of those questions
that I'll get full marks for again.
IV.
And this year,
time will pass itself,
killing everything
but my memories,
but my final grades.
V.
And this year,
time will have passed itself,
having killed everything.
Even my memories.
Even my final grades.
VI.
As everything
becomes everything again,
the year next;
with another you,
with another syllabus.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 12:43 PM UTC
They are so much cunning and cruel
Yet they possess, intelligence and smartness
Yes, they are filled with over confidence
They are absolutely shameless too
Don’t you feel my dear?
They don't have any sort of fear
They are beating us, hitting us
And we are helplessly watching them
They are neither allowing us to weep
Not they are letting us to cry loud
They are snatching our source of livelihood
They are looting our meagre savings too
They are boring bigger holes in our pockets
By their powerful invisible technological drills
Selling all sorts of stuff they use to produce
Drugs, sanitizers, hand washes and what not
They are asking to keep our ugly mouth fully shut
By putting beautiful, colourful and fancier masks
They are not letting us to meet our friends
They are not letting us to share our meals
They are not allowing us to share our views
They are not allowing us to share our thoughts
With any of our friend, relatives and fellow citizens
They are just telling us to follow whatever they say
They are throwing ******* and garbage on us
In the name of science, health and hygiene
There appears to be not much science
In their so call science and modern science
Shamelessly they proclaim to be our saviours
Saving us from the army of an invisible enemy
Although existence of any such army is doubtful
But their intentions are doubtful and doubtful
If any such invisible army of enemy really exists?
It may have been raised and owned by them only
To **** the lives of all the other fellow humans on earth
And to fulfil their greed and lust for power and money
They are planning to inject in our bodies
Some drugs, chemical or any such thing
They will even charge money for that
And try to fill their everlasting greed
I wonder, who they are?
God, Demi Gods or the Devils
Or they are just a band of inhuman
Resembling a band of nasty humans
Do they really have some superpower?
Or they are just a bunch of ugly parasites?
Trying to draw everything from our lives
Just to feed himself and to recreate his own life
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 6:41 AM UTC
You can taste
the psychosis on my
lips but there's no
guarantee that I will feel it.
There's an umbilical chord
holding me down to ***** reality
and depending on my
perspective
it either looks like a
dog leash or a
noose.
Inject a sedative with a rusty
needle at the end of my
nervous system. I'm immune; there's
misery mixed in with my
white blood cells that swallows
all sense of introspection. When my
soul plummets down like an anchor
and the floating stops
feeling safe, I welcome the chest
pains with open arms. The pins and
needles in my lungs are better
than burning them.
Look through my eyes
and sometimes nothing is real.
Live through my heart and
it hurts like hell when
I'm not drowning in air.
Think with my head and
either you will want to get out,
or it will kick you out.
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
The voice calling me from the dark
Is quiet
Sensuous
Its melody thrums through my bones and tongue
And curls, purring in my heart
Like wine it flushes my cheek with uninhibited warmth
It calls me to action
Reckless self endangering action
Not all voices from the dark are kind.
This one glows like a black sun.
Biting back the fear of warmth and contact
In my touch starved living canvas
The voice has teeth
Teeth that set in my spine and inject courage into my marrow
That scrape ever so slightly down my neck
In wanton display
Of seductive darkness.
Its call is haunting
Sleepworn it sends me running
Through a silver forest of dusky light
Upon an unbroken path
Marked only by whispers that linger in Its wake.
I know not what I’m following
I know its power and magnitude brings summer to my throat and winter to my veins
Spring blooming warm upon my cheeks along the shivering pines
That voice of silk sheets and twisted limbs
A weight in the chest like a secondary heart’s phantom thumping
Throbbing its call of life back to that voice in the dark
Inviting it in for a taste.
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 2:33 PM UTC
I imagine a biological plant,
I reach for It but can't touch It beacuse It's only my imagination.
I picture the same plant and reach to grab it but this time It's in 2D.
Now I am holding the plant. I can see and feel It got many features trying to prove itself being realistic but
It got no smell, no dirt, no life. It's just a prop.
Unlike your plant..
I can feel the warmth, the edgy imperfections, the good intentions of your plant.
I can see the healthy strains, the perfect ratio, the water flowing through your plant.
I can smell the unique aroma, the soul essence, natures soil all over your plant.
So I inject my plant with drugs, steriods and testoserone to match yours.
Look at my plant now world!
- Its just GMO'd.
Trying to be real made my plant more fake than It ever was.
How am I supposed to spread my seeds when my plant is so dysfunctional?
It would only create more confused and broken plants and eventually the world would be destroyed.
"Evolution could only come after a revolution"
Is a quote stuck in my brain.
Should I let my plant rot for the better
or should I keep watering It hoping for the best?
I really dont know anymore.
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 12:53 PM UTC
Spider kisses
Poison drops
Web wrapped
Life stops
Inject the sting
Pierce the heart
Blackened soul
Ripped apart
Drain my life
Silken bound
Breath no more
Safe and sound
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC