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"mdma" poems
Body Two bodies, in a bed, on a quilt in a field, in the backseat of an '88 Nissan Pathfinder. Two bodies, touching, squeezing, caressing, biting. Blood, pooling under the skin, rushing to the brain, rushing to the genitals, sticky/hot. ****** candy, the curve of lips around a lollipop, the drinking of whiskey from the bottle, the burning sensation of MDMA insufflation. Clothes strewn across your mother's kitchen, ice cubes traced down spines, ******* ******** Oral *** with ice cubes in the mouth. Frequent ************ and a sense of unwellbeing, if you'll allow me this one usage of an unword (I can't help myself)
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Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
A Portrait of the Artist Desiring ****** Touch.
The answer is i don't know.. Or do i know? coke xtc mdma tramadol eph xanax cannabis hasj speed/amphetamine 2cc flunitrazepam codeine vallium ritalin concerta lsd/acid bromazepam lorazepam 2cb etizolam 4fa ketamine 2fa/2fma ghb mephedrone (meow meow) methox And i'm pretty sure my list won't end there. It's not that i can't stop but i just don't want to feel reality.
0
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 9:53 PM UTC
why do i take all these drugs
Some chemical influences are necessary. Experimentation is mandatory. Skim the syllabus and you will see, MDMA is chapter three. Hemp is the strongest **** At least that's what I learned in Botany. Biology came as quite a shock, When the plants pulled out their ***** English came as such a breeze, The Diazepam brought poetry bees. They pollinated the dopamine receptor, Which greatly impressed my psychology professor.   When the zombies rose for dead weeks droll, Adderall and Vyvanse kept us cool. There's always a place in the Union Bathroom stall To do a dome some Coke before study hall. Of all the girls in my dorm floor Roxy and Molly were just next door. Art history wasn't the most entertaining, Until Absinth was my painting water. Finals were such a stress, so I'll admit We laced our gin shots with Xanex.   College was an experience, I'll admit, But Chemistry got me on the DEAn'S list.
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Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 2:20 AM UTC
Chemistry 1013
he's tripping, but not coerced by gravity; rather a Molotov cocktail of endorphins lobbed straight at his prefrontal cortex. some find this distasteful, some find it deplorable; god help me, I find it adorable. (it's the only time he'll admit he loves me)
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Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
mdma
I've been sedated and sold bought by gypsy ways my inhibitions have been stolen by mundane sober days I've been troubled and wandering trying to find a place to lay but the sleeping don't bring rest so I found a place to play shisha smoke fills my mouth MDMA rolls hard in the back of my eyes and there's no feeling lonely no hours to own me no imperfections to hold me in knowing no place as home in my eyes child fires bright with delight and hunger for more my memory written down quickly in thin white asp bite lines crimes of the right mind the creative souls borderlines sweat rolls over my body my arms find the sky I can't see the ugliness spying through childs eyes with my hands razor blade shakes my poetry's written one line at a time and there's no feeling helpless no reminders of distress wandering free and careless in knowing no place as home in my eyes child fires bright with delight and hunger for more I hear music even in the hush MDMA lusch, I crave life with a violent crush with two wide lines and the life of one white pill my life is filled with more beauty than I can stand until I can't even stand
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Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 4:36 PM UTC
ORION
Hovering pass the city lights my mind lies awake full of the psychedelic treats you offer latched on the various trances I felt I make sure it was you and not the demon who awoke as a ball of thunderous energy feeding the insatiable desire for vices and sin As the body grows lapse we know things are about to fall apart leaving us starving for more and voiding the reality we're in Our minds retry to go back while our souls will forever be lost in the wonder provided by the mysterious ghost of acid and MDMA
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
Coloring Extremities
When I was a kid all I wanted to do was smoke **** But nowadays its harder stuff that my body really needs In my teenage yeas smoking on a spliff It would seem to be a substantial lift Before long though my depression took hold Alcohol and cigarettes making me look old I fell into a bad crowd, moving drugs that were illicit My life moving so fast I probably could have missed it MDMA in my system and I felt so loved Ecstasy wasn't enough to see God above I experimented with psychedelics and I had a real ball But my habits got deeper, and my friends, I lost them all I turned to the streets to pay for my increasing routines But my job on the street interferes with my dreams So now I'm just a shadow of my former self A syringe smiles at me from the bottom shelf Sometimes I need a little bump just to get my mind right But often times a bump can turn into a wild night Sometimes I need to get level with some golden dope But too much of that **** and my life can lose all hope I often wonder if my life would be alright If I was never molested on that dreary night
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Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 5:16 AM UTC
Hannah's Story: White Girl Blues on the Corner Where She Pays Her Dues
Can you hear the strange noise in my heart? It makes vrruuuum, vrruuuum , vrruuuum every time you nap fondly on my pillow. My heart is a spy, tic tac by the clock, carrying the breeze in the ball of a thumb, while 's quietly de flowering your dreams, layer by layer. As if exists a collection of you in the ******* of mankind ! A small brute , the naughty child playing kalasnikov games and puzzlling the answers, the teenager tucking the drums, loud in all radios and smashing pumpkins on nirvanaheads spooning on MDMA flying . The grown up's ready for work, bored as Peter Pan growing and sometimes funny when life's a ***** I just saw you drinking Madeira wine in public toilets, splashing *** on your toes while dreaming in rainbows of plastic. I'm the frame of your dream. I'm here to take care of you while you're the squeeze of the petals and the whistle into the sound of the music.
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Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 7:56 AM UTC
" Leftovers from the dream diary of an emancipated cheshire cat forced to lead the human world"
I don't want to offend you, But I'll walk around my house naked, If I want to I don't want to **** you, But I'll sleep in the same bed, If you want me to I don't want to disturb you, But if I need to **** I'll wake you We'll both brake our glassy eyes, If you have enough for two We'll sleep until the sun is hung high, Then I'll wake you You'll leave around noon, And I'll tell my friends That I left you
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Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 5:39 AM UTC
MDMA
You were laying in the backyard on your lawn, And you said we had done too much MDMA so We might as well make it a cocktail and do some K. And as we did it off the log pile under the tree Your nose started to bleed, Because earlier we had done coke. We were such dumb kids, It is even amazing that we were still alive. And as we ran inside to make ice cream sundaes I tripped over my own feet, And then decided to make out with grass, Because I fell in love with nature. And we found a tarp, And some silver and purple and black and yellow paint. And we decided to get naked and become human paintings. And it didn't matter that I was engaged because you are gayer than Tim Gun. And I made a pond on your back, With fish swimming up the river of your legs. And we took pictures And cried because we were the most beautiful models. You decided you were superman and tried to climb the wood pile. You fell so gracefully, It was like you were a moving piece of art. I gave you stitches and accidentally sewed a heart into your leg, You did not mind. You told me it was the only heart you had right now. So I told you that scared me, That it made me want to die And I took the scissors and cut my leg. But you took it away And I made out with the grass again. Simple is as simple does, I am here now because because.
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
You're My River
i'm walking down the street bare feet, without a care **** uber, metro, I hate public transportation, i'm dirtying up this sidewalk, for a few years already i'm writing down a will, in my mind, close to my eyelids, because i'm on the wrong side of my mind i feel sick, tasting the bitterness of humanity when I wipe mankind on the side of the pavement, at the very deep, there's masculinity mixed with ***** i'm walking down a bridge full of empty shells i pass hordes of girls who are smiling insincerely and again, i feel a boost in my veins and again, i'm louder than mirrors and as in the mirrors, voidness space, and it is me, who takes the best from it i absorb this poisoned air. In the ears of mine, i can hear electro heat, i feel like one man one Jean-Michel Jarre, rain is pouring through me, sticks to me like fog, i wrap myself in the warmth of two MDMA's, someone glances surreptitiously and steals my soul, you have a backpack full of cash, i have a suitcase full of emotions, i'm going on a journey through the cursed city like a hermaphrodite with a broken rod, streets, like stigmas, cry with hollow screams, in front of clubs content abortions on the sidewalk, let's leave this lie, like the walking dead assertiveness and pride to the gutter washed away. And again, this booster is kindling my veins i'm dirtier than a new jerusalem and similar to it, i'm sticking to everything and so I'm taking the most out of my heart and I absorb this poisoned air once again. and so the booster flows through the aorta it is flooding my tarred heart, destination reached. and my wallet is shimmering with bitter crystal nothing will change the course of this chemistry, betrayed. betrayed by their own bodies vidi, no vici, veni on its own, and i'm catching a laugh, standing still in the subway i am still absorbing poisoned air. hatred. jealousy. i've seen enough. today, in my city, sun rises in the morning. you will remember this day forever or forget it for eternity.
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Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 4:43 PM UTC
Poisoned air
i'm walking down the street bare feet, without a care **** uber, metro, I hate public transportation, i'm dirtying up this sidewalk, for a few years already i'm writing down a will, in my mind, close to my eyelids, because i'm on the wrong side of my mind i feel sick, tasting the bitterness of humanity when I wipe mankind on the side of the pavement, at the very deep, there's masculinity mixed with ***** i'm walking down a bridge full of empty shells i pass hordes of girls who are smiling insincerely and again, i feel a boost in my veins and again, i'm louder than mirrors and as in the mirrors, voidness space, and it is me, who takes the best from it i absorb this poisoned air. In the ears of mine, i can hear electro heat, i feel like one man one Jean-Michel Jarre, rain is pouring through me, sticks to me like fog, i wrap myself in the warmth of two MDMA's, someone glances surreptitiously and steals my soul, you have a backpack full of cash, i have a suitcase full of emotions, i'm going on a journey through the cursed city like a hermaphrodite with a broken rod, streets, like stigmas, cry with hollow screams, in front of clubs content abortions on the sidewalk, let's leave this lie, like the walking dead assertiveness and pride to the gutter washed away. And again, this booster is kindling my veins i'm dirtier than a new jerusalem and similar to it, i'm sticking to everything and so I'm taking the most out of my heart and I absorb this poisoned air once again. and so the booster flows through the aorta it is flooding my tarred heart, destination reached. and my wallet is shimmering with bitter crystal nothing will change the course of this chemistry, betrayed. betrayed by their own bodies vidi, no vici, veni on its own, and i'm catching a laugh, standing still in the subway i am still absorbing poisoned air. hatred. jealousy. i've seen enough. today, in my city, sun rises in the morning. you will remember this day forever or forget it for eternity.
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47
I'd never ask anything of you or expect you to love me at all. Cheat as many times as you like, I'd suffer in silence. Want me until you become incontinent, Incompetent in bed and as fat as your father. Want me like some kid on MDMA wants water and a bassline to cry to. Never let me sleep alone maybe love me a little but never tell me, and if your feelings get too strong and potent go **** your ex girlfriend. Just don't ever stop wanting me.
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May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
I'd Never Ask Anything of You
anxiety: my heart wakes me up, tattooing irregular beats against my ribs, pulse racing, breath shaking. i cannot tell if this is real or psychosomatic. these days, i think about death all the time, no longer by suicide. now, i am an accident waiting to happen, fragile from years of misuse & neglect. the shallow inhales of my lungs tell me i am not okay. depression: this is a gray day. i swallow my meds even though they take away my mania. so i drink black coffee until my mind races itself in circles, chasing its tail like a rabid dog. i keep the razors hidden in my sock drawer, just in case. anorexia: my ribs ****** forward from my skin again, the sharp protrusion of my bones beginning to show through. i am eating but drinking my weight in water & mainlining caffeine to keep my metabolism high & my weight low. i am still child-sized & i don't want to grow. they lift me easily with their arms & marvel at my featherweight body. the compliments i get only make me eat less. self-harm: on the days when i am low, i trace the silver stretch of scars scattered over my skin with a yearning for a blade between my fingers just one last time. i swear to you, the bleeding is over, but i need to know i am still brave enough to hold a sharp edge against my flesh & press down, hard. addiction: a month ago, i downed four adderall in one sitting, luxuriating in the heady rush & lack of pain, the quiet & the calm. when i lived at home, i stole my mother's vicodin & took the whole bottle. i'm not sorry. when the boy who only cared about ******* me offered mdma for free, i accepted, but i shouldn't have trusted him to keep me safe, blacking out on his kitchen floor. drink red wine to forget my insecurity, inhale thick, sweet smoke to feel some semblance of happy, drag on cigarettes down to their filters until i feel properly alive. all i want is to be better, but where to begin?
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Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 9:59 AM UTC
mental illness
anxiety: my heart wakes me up, tattooing irregular beats against my ribs, pulse racing, breath shaking. i cannot tell if this is real or psychosomatic. these days, i think about death all the time, no longer by suicide. now, i am an accident waiting to happen, fragile from years of misuse & neglect. the shallow inhales of my lungs tell me i am not okay. depression: this is a gray day. i swallow my meds even though they take away my mania. so i drink black coffee until my mind races itself in circles, chasing its tail like a rabid dog. i keep the razors hidden in my sock drawer, just in case. anorexia: my ribs ****** forward from my skin again, the sharp protrusion of my bones beginning to show through. i am eating but drinking my weight in water & mainlining caffeine to keep my metabolism high & my weight low. i am still child-sized & i don't want to grow. they lift me easily with their arms & marvel at my featherweight body. the compliments i get only make me eat less. self-harm: on the days when i am low, i trace the silver stretch of scars scattered over my skin with a yearning for a blade between my fingers just one last time. i swear to you, the bleeding is over, but i need to know i am still brave enough to hold a sharp edge against my flesh & press down, hard. addiction: a month ago, i downed four adderall in one sitting, luxuriating in the heady rush & lack of pain, the quiet & the calm. when i lived at home, i stole my mother's vicodin & took the whole bottle. i'm not sorry. when the boy who only cared about ******* me offered mdma for free, i accepted, but i shouldn't have trusted him to keep me safe, blacking out on his kitchen floor. drink red wine to forget my insecurity, inhale thick, sweet smoke to feel some semblance of happy, drag on cigarettes down to their filters until i feel properly alive. all i want is to be better, but where to begin?
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57
hangover anxieties where the world melds waiting for insanity all I need to do is sleep cuddle my lover, be with the angel of my soul and stop working off prior expectation as to what and where and why and who. I'm gonna be completely fine. next combination won't include MDMA, beer, and coffee in the morning.
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Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 5:00 PM UTC
anxiety is like walking into a dark cave, yelling, and being unsure which direction your redundant echos are coming from.
Kafija citiem tā vairāk tīk melna citiem balta bet man bez cukura. Kafijas garša ir neaprakstāma nevajag lsd vai mdma jo kafija spēj aizstāt visu. Tai plūstot manī es sajūtos kā paradīzē jo kafijā ir kaut kas īpašs, kaut kas tāds, kas nav citos dzērienos. Kafija liek man aizmirsties un man tas patīk. Mana burvju dzira uz mūžū...
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 10:13 AM UTC
c o f f e e
**** that was the mdma.** I felt the chemicals crawling slowly passed my throat into my system And for a moment I was the only thing in my moshpit reality Standing completely still for once Right there In the middle of Hungary I felt the prodigy spiders climb through my skin Into my brain And I could not think myself But I heard the thoughts of others "Why do we do this to ourselves?"
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Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
Budapest
I think I'm almost done with the game comedowns are getting old the high's not the same. I need a break from Benzoylmethylecgonine & Methylenedioxymethylamphetamine aka ******* & MDMA. I've grown listless of balancing Serotonin & Dopamine. Maybe I'm growing up, realizing it's time to get clean. Peace, love, acceptance & remember friends, stay green. xo
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Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
Subtly Fading Flame
Type it out you ******* this could be The last one For a little while. I made a promise with myself Or whoever that shady character is, Outside On the deck with me The one who Makes fun of me Delete words as I puke this Poem? Out.   Its best that me and this keyboard become friends My anger towards, understand and accepting What is proper type, Or am I the proper type Of guy who wants Vegas And EDM And MDMA in My life So writing Or typing Whatever Which one Of me Wants to deem it for only when I dream It, cheap rhyme, I want my style to be my own And I want my intoxicated Meaningful Ramblings to be a Part of it A part of the Bigger picture. I will only type **** like this when i am not sober. Sober sure is funny And not just a funny word Smiley face emoticon Emoticon is not a typo .... Dear lord, oh god oh mighty, Blasphemy that I would Even start Talkin' about galaxies and universes outside of this one Puke some more As I delete and pull Words From One Line To the Next Without Giving a **** That my Microsoft word Capitalizes Every text My little brother text (texted?) Me tonight and said "Get more ink For the typewriter" . Aside for my desire to ramble on about Getting more ink The 16 year ol’ champ Is right My biggest dreams at this moment Are childlike If that’s a good thing… Then my 6 year game plan From this day is in jeopardy. Autocorrect me more Higher intelligence And answer me question’s The one’s that Christan’s Don’t need answerin’ Have you ever been introduced to a 16 year old **** A 16 year ol’ **** Honestly, I had my eyes locked On – one Tonight And I don’t know so much if I was looking But maybe I was recognizing Recognizing a certain Level of respect that I had For her That she didn’t have for herself She ****** off my best friends brother to get her backpack back tonight In front of car headlights And I have always wanted to type Backpack back My entire life. Put your backpack on buddy, And walk away from this Poem?
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 5:33 AM UTC
Real Talk.
Type it out you ******* this could be The last one For a little while. I made a promise with myself Or whoever that shady character is, Outside On the deck with me The one who Makes fun of me Delete words as I puke this Poem? Out.   Its best that me and this keyboard become friends My anger towards, understand and accepting What is proper type, Or am I the proper type Of guy who wants Vegas And EDM And MDMA in My life So writing Or typing Whatever Which one Of me Wants to deem it for only when I dream It, cheap rhyme, I want my style to be my own And I want my intoxicated Meaningful Ramblings to be a Part of it A part of the Bigger picture. I will only type **** like this when i am not sober. Sober sure is funny And not just a funny word Smiley face emoticon Emoticon is not a typo .... Dear lord, oh god oh mighty, Blasphemy that I would Even start Talkin' about galaxies and universes outside of this one Puke some more As I delete and pull Words From One Line To the Next Without Giving a **** That my Microsoft word Capitalizes Every text My little brother text (texted?) Me tonight and said "Get more ink For the typewriter" . Aside for my desire to ramble on about Getting more ink The 16 year ol’ champ Is right My biggest dreams at this moment Are childlike If that’s a good thing… Then my 6 year game plan From this day is in jeopardy. Autocorrect me more Higher intelligence And answer me question’s The one’s that Christan’s Don’t need answerin’ Have you ever been introduced to a 16 year old **** A 16 year ol’ **** Honestly, I had my eyes locked On – one Tonight And I don’t know so much if I was looking But maybe I was recognizing Recognizing a certain Level of respect that I had For her That she didn’t have for herself She ****** off my best friends brother to get her backpack back tonight In front of car headlights And I have always wanted to type Backpack back My entire life. Put your backpack on buddy, And walk away from this Poem?
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103
I don't just wanna be your come down. I wanna be what gets you high. I wanna be you THC. Your MDMA. Your TLC. And all the other letters in between.
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Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
hella faded
This week has been very long so far                                               Maybe because I mashed my head on Saturday,                         But Joe turned up to surprise his Ma,                                             Would have bin rude not to share the MDMA. But what goes up has to come down, We had our fun, our chats, our tunes. On Sunday he was Nottingham bound Monday  a pin-pricked balloon. Overcompensation followed I Frontlined the pets, took the cat to the vets, did the weekly shop, used the hoover and mop.......watched "The Waltons"........I made pies and mash, grieved for spent cash, looked for a job, tried not to open my gob..........watched "The Waltons"......I sorted the cupboards, mixed up my words, misheard repeatedly, had great thoughts ...fleetingly........watched "The Waltons" Finally Friday beckons invitedly, a time of unwinding. I can't believe that in the past I would have bin planning   More pill taking excitedly.More fun and lights blinding But thank god I'm too old to be young .....       Must be  soon Spring.
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Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
The Visit