Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lizzy Apr 2016
I know I should be sorry
I know I should feel bad
Because here I am doing the thing
I said I'd never do again.

I said I wouldn't hurt myself
But that's been ******* all along.
The only thing that kept me clean
Was knowing that if I splipped
I'd be hurting more than just me.

But now I'm sitting here
Like I have so many times
Tearing at my skin
For a glimpse
Of sweet relief.

In the grand scheme of things
A few small scrapes
Doesn't make a difference.
It's nothing dangerous
And it's not hurting anyone
It's just a way for me to silence
The monsters in me.

I don't care anymore
About taking care of me
I'll do what I want
Even if it kills me.
I'll do what I want
Even if it means
ruining nine months
Of a fleeting fantasy
Mandalina Oct 2018
Relapse.
It's screaming my name.
Relapse.
The urge is killing me.
Relapse.
I'm trying to stay clean,
but right now all I see is
relapse.

My vision is blurry,
my mind is a mess,
it all makes sense,
and I know I shouldn't
but in this moment I'm weak.

All I want to do is
   r  e  l  a  p  s  e



-j.m.k
Mandalina Oct 2018
I'm on the edge
and I'm falling over slowly

I'm falling down
and I'm crashing on the ground

I can feel the tears building up
but I don't know how to cry

I can feel my need
but I don't want to cave in

But tonight I'm weak
and I'm afraid my addiction will win

I'm on the edge
and relapse is all I see



-j.m.k
Mandalina Nov 2018
I'm sorry
I failed
I slipped
I broke down
I caved in
I gave up

I'm sorry
I relapsed



-j.m.k
Iain M Apr 4
Peeling myself off the floor with shaking legs,
My head's spins and my bones feel lead heavy,
I grin through ****** teeth as the question begs,
what happens to the river when you break the levee.

****** knuckles, bent noses, and black eyes.
Dissociation hides behind a smirk and a dimple,
that practiced mask that self loathing buys,
I say I'm getting better, like its ever that simple.

You see I'm an expert at burning bridges,
a true to life true crime social arsonist,
I bathe in jet fuel to clean my stitches,
Just another on fire narcissist.

So leave my mirror be, cause its a cracked reflection,
the bad guy won my mental election,
Please don't trust his smiling inflection,
and save yourself from my infection.
Vanessa Viniegra Feb 2018
(gulp)

couldn’t resist a minute more.

Relapse

I again…

After six months sober

Here.

in this pain I know all too well.

Ten years lost to this drug, my veins ache for.

First breath in the morning and last thought at night all consumed by it,

Every cell in me craves it.

That physical euphoria my body portraits.

Feels like someone has poured pure joy into every single muscle and fiber of my being.

It makes me feel so content

I am literally in love the entire world.

Every single bit of me is singing and buzzing with life and love.

It’s like the ecstasy of *******. That first, blissful, pleasurable pulsation of endorphin's and serotonin.

Is what I feel when I first take LOVE.

And then,

And then, the honeymoon stage is over.

Fights erupt,

never-ending debates,

miscommunications,

misperceptions,

no trust,

accusations,

lies,

“I’m done”



Again, it feels like a part of my soul is leaving my body.

Again, sitting here numb.

A toxic love

I’m addicted too,

And there’s no way around it.

It’s already deep intertwined with my veins.

Yet no matter the toxic tragic event that happened before, I sit here, and I want nothing more than to spend my life next to this soul.

To see his eyes unchanged as the skin around it wrinkling and old, is what my heart will always desire, to stare at those eyes for the rest of eternity.

Dead air…


















So here I’ll wait, until you decided to come into my life again and repeat this déjà vu.
Lost Sep 2018
I held the flame
of a cigarette
to my arm

I closed my eyes
when I did it
But I still heard:
I sizzle when I burn

squeezed shut
my eyelids saved me
from having to stare
into the fire
as it ate up the skin
of my forearm

I melt

my flesh falls away
but mostly

I burn

deep

     deep

          down

further than
any cigarette
has managed
to reach
so far
CONTENT WARNING: Description of self harm
Carter Ginter Sep 2014
White, my hands of ice
Warmed by the chilled blade upon my palm.
A touch of red
Blurs pink.
No light,
Just white, and fade
The frozen air begins to warm
as the water drips from my soul
onto the bedroom floor.
emilee haman Mar 2015
the way i see it i have two options.
option one is to continue to go through the motions.
continue to pretend, and hide behind the thin veil of dignity i feel i have left.
keep my acquaintances and the happiness that i have thoroughly convinced myself that i have,
but in reality be miserable.
option two: relapse
admitting defeat, and accepting the failure that was inevitable from the beginning
losing the things i had recently attained in the process of being clean:
friendship, happiness, and hope.
and circumstantially gain something i've lacked in the last eight months:
the fear of exposing my true emotion.
which is the lesser of two evils?
suppress the protruding ache in my chest leaving me emotionally distant, or show the world how i truly feel?
I think id choose the latter
My name is Sarah, I am but 4
Trapped staring at the ceiling and at the floor
I don't even understand what I’m fighting for.

I never did wrong I always did what was right
Now it hurts so bad I can’t sleep at night.
Why is my mommy crying what is going through her head
I’d give her a hug if I was allowed to leave my bed.

My stomach is starving but cannot eat
I want to get up but I’m much too weak
I lay down my head and drift off to sleep
I pray to the lord for my soul to keep.
Then I stop breathing and through the dark I see a light,
My name is Sarah and cancer murdered me tonight.

HTTP://www.******-in-oncology.com
Carter Ginter Jan 2018
I wanna see the blood
I wanna see the pain
I wanna prove that my body
Is nothing more than a frame
My mind is screaming
Parts of it beg me to bleed
The others demonize those pleas
I just don't want to feel this way anymore
And I suppose it's my own fault
I know how I get
When I start drinking then stop
Maybe that's why I always overdo it
Because then I can get sick and sleep
Before this depression takes its hold
And sets my demons free
Digging and clawing at my mind
Until I do the same to my own skin
Rochelle R Apr 2016
Silence

Digging
The search for words
Leaves me empty and blister-handed
Despair and thought swirl in a voiceless dance
Between my ears and
Any will I've had to speak
Disappears where my breath meets my lips
Guttural instinct has me know
There are things that need to be said
Words to be exchanged
Explanations waiting
Perched
Perilously on the edge
Of solving all
And no going back
And yet

Silence. And everything is dead.
Mandalina Oct 2018
I am so very alone and I can't cope with it.
I'm isolated from the world in a place I know nothing about and it's making me insane.
I need someone before I call it quits.
I really thought I could handle it all.
I really did.
But, I always seem to forget how weak I actually am
and how easy it is to relapse.
Being alone is terrifying.
I am terrified of myself and my thoughts.
They always sneak up on me during the night and try to persuade me into falling back
and I’m not sure I can resist it anymore.



-j.m.k
Felicity Smoak May 2018
I miss you
and not even in the way that I should
not even in the way that you've been away from me
not even in the way that we've been apart.

you've been right next to me.
but I'm all alone.
I spent all day with you,
but I spent all day alone.

f.m.s.
I just wish you spent more time with me. you spend all your time on your phone and then claim you love me. I don't understand. am I not enough?
Kaitlyn Nov 2017
A rush of blood to the head
The excitement of dread
Why
Do we yearn for the reasons we bled?

To be free from reality
Can't see your mortality
It's no surprise
Devils love hospitality

Nobody watches him slide through the door
You give him everything yet he somehow wants more
Let him tear up the carpet
The curtains
The floor

That was the last time

Every time
You swore

k.d.
Why are my feelings so complicated?
Things should be simple.
Did I relapse last weekend?
I can feel the hunger, the drive
to consume substance; apotheogenesis.

4ll these wor1ds inside 3ach of u5,
4ll just wyrds in 7ime.

Ate some Syrian Rue after breakfast,
Peganum Harmala, its alkaloids act as
reversible inhibitors of monoamine oxidase [RIMA].
The principle active alkaloid is Harmine.
RIMAs prevent the break-down of
some neurotransmitters.
Consequently it interacts
with most drugs, and even foodstuffs rich in tryptophan.
An informed and responsible user
can safely manage their diet to minimize adverse effects.
I must say I enjoyed that day I could feel,
Though the day after had quite a few moments of doubt.
What's more, it was interesting to get higher
as a result of simply having a meal.
I am happy with the experience.
Does my willingness mean it
is any less of a relapse?
After attenuating
the drives to
use, and now re-awaking
them,  I am left wondering
what constitutes the human.
kyleigh g Feb 2018
laying in the er
here I am again
i’m already wishing
to go home

I pace the halls
in my hospital gown
wondering why i'm alone

I fall asleep peacefully
in my uncomfortable bed
until the nurse says
“honey, I have to get your blood”

I half-heartedly smile
despite the feeling
that i’ve been dragged
through the mud

no friends to lean on
only my parents
i’m completely
falling apart

“why didn’t I do it”
I ask myself
I knew I should have
from the start
I have one best friend back :) he still compliments me (even though I don’t deserve it) and it’s replenished some of my self esteem
Carter Ginter Jan 2018
I have bad thoughts
Of beautiful things
The color red
Oozing from my pale skin
The simplicity of a clean line
Only to be ruined by smeared blood
Why do these thoughts haunt me?
Am I obsessed with my own pain?
Or simply so ****** up
That I find beauty
In the face of my demons
A piece I wrote awhile ago while cutting paper with a ridiculously fine blade
Val Graz Aug 15
The alcohol ***** me up every time,
And I just can't seem to find,
My sanity in the calamity,
Of my ever loving mind,
Because when it's drowning in tequila,
I just want sleep with a fella,
I'll invite over random people from Tinder,
Thank the Lord I haven't been murdered,
Or worse, yes there's worse,
Because I'm suicidal, find me a hearse,
I've been this way,
Since the fourth grade,
When my innocence was broken,
And now I'm just too woken,
To the ways of the world and the **** people in it,
And I just can't seem to find my place among it,

Relapse on the horizon,
If I can't find a way to survive this,
Please someone save me from my drowning before I die,
Because I don't know how to swim in my own mind,

I've been in pieces lately,
Crying sometimes uncontrollably,
And that's just not me,
I'm usually relatively happy,
Cracking jokes, to cover my hurt,
So no one knows just how far down in the dirt,
I really am these days,
How much I just want to fade,
Into oblivion, and never resurface,
Because I put a mask on my face,
And tell everyone I'm okay,
It's like an automatic reaction to say,
To never tell anyone how I really feel,
Which is like garbage if you can deal,
With the truth, but most people can't handle it,
Most people don't want the real ****,

Relapse on the horizon,
If I can't find a way to survive this,
Please someone save me from my drowning before I die,
Because I don't know how to swim in my own mind.
Makayla Jane Nov 2018
I haven't done it in a while,
But seeing the faded outline of my friends,
The scars that make me feel calm,
Made me want them back

I used to run my fingers along the cuts
As if I was reading braille to soothe my head;
Because I felt like those fresh wounds,
Were my only friends along with my blades

Those blades and the scars that accompanied them were something I could count on,
No matter how bad my day was I could cry all night
And sit in the bathroom mirror and talk to myself as I stared into my own eyes
Letting my blade dance across my skin,
Leaving a beautiful red trail;
The stinging sensation that came after that turned into the blissful pleasure,
That wonderful feeling I once loved was something I couldn't remember
Until today;

I wasn't even sad at the moment
It was just something my mind drove me to do out of sheer nostalgia
Because seeing the faded outlines of my scars
Counting each one replaying the night I created them
And remembering how close they were to me and that they were once my friends
Brought it all back;

So I threw a little self-harm depression party once again,
I created this little get together
And invited those old friends and demons of mine
Where my blade once again danced
And my scars then cried red;
Where I stared into my dark chocolate brown eyes
And let tears of my own claw their way out;
Where I smiled and laughed, talking to myself saying how much I missed the stinging pleasure
And relapsed again for the first time in a while

I thought about how what I was doing was something so wrong
And I told myself I was sadistic for laughing because I missed the sensation
But my god does it feel so right
I guess that's why so many people
Do all these things that slowly **** them;
Just as I do with self-harm...
I apologize for my actions.
Feel free to share revision ideas :)
Elizabeth Grace Jul 2018
I can't seem to shake it
That itch you shouldn't scratch
That turns into a scab
And then you're left with a scar

I can't stop the tremors in my fingers
The aching between muscles
That never seems to leave my mind
No matter how hard I try

I can't face the featureless mask
That I pull on each and every day
That is made of porcelain bone
Cracks beginning to take their shape

I can't grasp the concept of breathing
The air condensed in my lungs like cement
The tight veins in my wrist
Growing bluer by the second

I can't take the sound of silent screams
The ever growing, putrid, infection
The alcohol wipe sliding down metal
Euphoria painted with panic

And then the cycle begins again
Next page