"sobered" poems
So the day I say I'm done,and finished with it all..
Was the same day that the house of cards I built began to fall,
Karma huffed and puffed and blew it all away,
Whether i deserved it or not? well its hard to say,
I need to take it easy but im living life the harder way ,
Living life day to day - there's gotta be a better way,
Love Drunk from the potions from Amy's wine house ,
I sobered up but it was only to find out -
Your lion-like roars turned to Microsoft words,
I was in my own word - she was in hers,
No, I'm not modest and dishonesty's a problem for my nerves,
Approach the point of no return? We def on the verge,
Better yet the brink, and to think, our past you rubbed away -
Washed down the metaphorical sink,
And now all sounds of trouble power point to YOU,
My mind is now tainted, as you are in my point of view,
I'd hate to break the glue we used to make the news,
But i have to go away from you - Later boo..
Dec 15, 2023
Dec 15, 2023 at 2:37 PM UTC
my heart flutters at
the way she speaks my name.
"lover", she hums,
and i watch speechless as woebegone
drips from her lips. she
tastes like moonlight
when she kisses me. fragile.
unknown. known.
when our bodies meet
i can't imagine living life any
differently than this;
magnetism draws me closer and
i am intoxicated and sobered and
and i let my fingers
trace symphonies over her skin
love songs and love letters
and the lust of
knowing that this is belonging.
we fold into each other
and it is inevitable. i want to
learn her, learn
every part of her, as if
it's what my soul was sent to do;
her heartbeat weaves a
gossamer of beauty and
she leaves it in the crease of my
neck. "lover".
lightworker. twinflame.
architect of this home, these
two arms that sing safety
into rose quartz bones.
this is harmony.
i release a held breath and
whisper back, "always".
this is my promise.
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 10:33 AM UTC
She would be dressed pretty in rags
slaving like there's no tomorrow
without that bit of altruism
maybe a tad kindhearted
shrouded in materialism.
Fairy godmother's name
is money
lures her
to a game of fame
keeps silent
of its rules.
Her beauty
makes her a winner
she would
be drunk
attention
glamour
pleasure.
Unknowingly
games drawn to an end
the clock strikes twelve;
Struck her
riches to rags
the magic of money
only lasts so long
Struck her
still had not find
her one true love
at the eleventh hour.
Sobered
ran out in embarrassment
left only a glass slipper.
Desolate
returning to rags
a druggie for fame
with much hope
a prince charming
would remember
her to find.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
I hear the foot steps coming… stomping down the hall,
In my room I shut my eyes and wait for the blow to fall.
From the uneven walking and the swearing that I hear,
I know it’s not you I can expect, as I slowly dry a tear.
He’d come home drunk, having lost his job, and started hitting you mom,
You had simply asked him how we’d live without him making tom.
But he lost his rag, maybe stress, and pulled you by your hair,
Next thing you knew you couldn’t move and he’d broken another chair.
This time you knew he’d gone too far, but you could just painfully stare,
As he kicked and beat your numb body till you lay there bare.
To scream from the pain in your back you opened your mouth, but not a word came out,
Then you closed it again, afraid to loose the rest of your teeth as down came another clout.
Now downstairs there’s silence, as he realizes what he’s done,
Then in fear and anger he makes his way upstairs to finish what he’s began.
His drunken mind tells him that if he’s ever found out,
He’ll spend his years in a jail, having to sit it out.
So now I sit here mom, with only a few seconds to go,
My heart trembling and the tears begin to flow.
It’s not how I expected the end to come, from a man I once called “dad”,
But I know tomorrow when he’s sobered up, he’s the one who’ll be sad.
And that’s why these tears I’m crying, it’s for him, cause I know he’s not bad,
And now when me and mom are gone, I hope he’ll remember all the good times we’ve had.
I don’t blame him at all for this thing he’s done… no, not at all,
Drinking is many people’s weakness, it’s many’s downfall.
But the man I really blame is the one behind the bar,
He stands there watching, giving him drink, knowing he’s gone too far.
He’s only there for the money and couldn’t care for his life,
So may it be on him, the blood of his daughter and his wife.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 4:58 AM UTC
We are surrounded by shatter broken beer bottles, wine coolers gone to waste.
We've gone to war inside our own heads, pulling ourselves into corners and kitchens and couch cushions where all I can think is how pretty you look tonight
I can feel my heart beat to the technicolor rhythm of your butterfly gas leak eyes
"This music hurts my heart I want to leave now" is what you whisper to me under dropped basses and stepped dubs
"I know" is what I whisper back alongside the same sad forget-your-worries rhythm
So we leave, floating over alcohol puff swollen bodies left behind by unreliable boy-girlfriends sick of cleaning ***** out of the back of their pickup trucks
And we roll our sickly drunken souls to the Mcdonalds where they give you coffee to get rid of wasted smashed faces if you're underage and alcohol-laced
we sober up over cold coffee and scalding fries
We sober up,
But I get drunk on your candy stained mouth as you pour out lies you've never told anyone before
I want to let you know all my favourites, all my secrets, all my everythings
But I don't.
And after that pretty pretty night
where we sobered up
but I got drunk on you
The only time I see you
Is past someone else's head
As I smash my drunken lips to theirs.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
Last I could remember was my sister,
Running towards me with a sharp blade and blood blister.
Vacant mornings and bed of plain routine,
2 years past since the loss of queen.
Neck eternally stamped with a razor knot,
Thoughts nevermore within vengeance plot.
But sobered up, I’ve seen it all before,
No sister nor blister, a schizophrenic lore.
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 3:52 PM UTC
I expected my first night at a college
to be like in the movies,
and to an extent it was.
Walking down streets on wet asphalt,
halloween night without a raincoat.
Half of my expectations
must have been coated
in a thick fog,
surprising me with consistent images
of you.
We snuck into the bathroom
of an unfamiliar apartment
just to manage one last kiss
before we sobered up.
The costumes would come off
and we would go back to pretending
you were just a friend.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 7:46 PM UTC
Closure
I deleted our chat
Cause I was mad
Then when I sobered up
I wanted it back
I wanted you back
I started a new
In the middle of the night
Only a few
Words by my side
Said I was sorry
You said you'll see
If you could forgive me
Then you told me about
You beating your meat
And sadly it was depressing
Now we're done again
And I can't delete
Cause I hold it dear
To reality
And I wanna weep
But I'm not a creep
Thanks so much
for everything you've done
This 2 am chat
Is where my clarity begun
Closure
Now I know ya
And it's over
Game over
Closure x
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 8:19 PM UTC
An animal is what I am,
with fangs that bite too deep.
Awake at night, and too possessed
to get a wink of sleep.
Amused by chasing freedom
from feeling what is real.
I would go to any length,
I'd make a Devil's deal.
Corrupted and conflicted,
until I find my friend.
He's killing me, and ripping me
apart from every end.
Smoke is curling up inside.
Noise is somewhat dull.
Silent moving pictures streaming
softly in my skull.
I think the ground is quaking.
My eyes are dry as sand.
The carpet feels like metal scraping flesh
upon my hands.
Shaking within cavities
I thought did not exist.
My temperature from cold to hot,
I'm fiending for the bliss.
I wish the things I felt right now
would wound me to my grave.
But fantasies of you inside my veins
is what I crave.
I've sobered up and looked
upon my arms, who seem to yearn.
A distant scream inside my heart
tells me I'll never learn.
A bag, a spoon, a spark, a *****
and now I'm turning blue.
Blue death inside my bones and skin,
an animal for you.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
I’m the girl with the loudest laugh in the crowd, who warms the bodies of those who surround with happiness; the girl who puts on a smile and lights up the room, the girl who is there for everyone in their times of lonesome tears and times of trouble.
Within my laughs are cries of pain; among my lips is a dreadful control, constantly attempting to stop the quivering muscles; inside the bright room, the shadows wrap around me in their soothing embrace, drawing me into their abyss yet again; I’m the girl who wants to be comforted, calmed, and loved.
Notice me, and what I entail. Listen to my words, and try to understand their meaning. Look into my eyes and hear their quiet whispers as they spill out the secrets of sable struggles, a seemly sacrificed soul, and a sensibly sobered sanity.
This illness crawls through my brain, embedding the virus deeper into me, and stripping away all remembrances of my wholesome well-being. My body shivers and shutters despite the piles of blankets on top of me, or the two jackets upon my back. This physical cold is nothing compared to the grim cold running through my veins. I’m dawned with illness as my muscles shake and strain from the trifling weight of my own sorrow.
With each brush stroke, more hair comes out. The dark, twined mane falls on the floor of my bathroom tub, haunting me with judgment. My nails are peeled, the bags under my eyes darkened, the shine from my hair gone; all to feel normal. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, why am I doing this to myself?
___________________________________
eating disorders, bulimia, depression, lost, lonely, depressed, struggles, pain, coping, mia, ana, life
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
The light was the star shinning in the dark,
the feeling was the blood bleeding in the heart,
the rain was just the eternal pain,
everything was fine everything was sane.
But the feeling in the heart was in itself a lie,
the shooting star fell down and died,
the almighty showers sobered down,
INSANITY ALL AROUND !
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 3:36 AM UTC
The nagging sleep claws into pink flesh begging it's death-like manner into a call to action
Biting cold with the death dream, fickle imagination setting fire to decency
And the little dreams dance about in your head, mad children lurking, orphaned-
Then the rattling of the rafters with the years behind,
Their black mess still lingering-
Feeding off the disease cast aside
Poor dream,
The ugly nightscape has been sobered up
The pangs were left in poverty
No I do not need your fetishes..
And the parasites flee
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
Wear a bathrobe
when beating the keyboard,
when borrowing words from your muse;
Let the stale air in the
dim room
form as
fragrant
beads of sweat,
thick with whiskey,
on your brow
Wonder if what you're
writing
is poetry or ****
Proceed to not care and
write, write, write baby
because at the end of it all,
when the words are used up
and you've sobered up,
someone will tell you
it's ****
and someone will tell you
it's gold
But you don't give a **** do you?
You just
reach for the whiskey
bottle and ask your muse
for some more
Netflix and chill
But hey, wear that bathrobe;
it gives you character
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 12:37 AM UTC
An unstoppable ancient cyclone should hold man's dreams accountable, an eternal flame if the soul, already restless to the core, wanted to flicker; perhaps no one and nothing has time to wait with dignity, and await the order of the final tests. The Janus shadow of sleeping jellyfish creeps through our rusty coils, when man can no longer possess the ability to make his active shrinking, hazelnut-brain remember - afraid - perhaps it will be swallowed up by the insidious vibration-wave of self-destructive waves.
Spread fingers can no longer, tremblingly, embrace the loyalty of the Universe, to which they once swore with the word of the heart according to the laws of mortals. The small, frayed erosion of the body has been lurking helplessly for thirty or so years and does not ask, it only acts. Behind the person's back, old love-intoxications, eternal friendships guarded with fear, when everything seemed crystal clear and perhaps even simpler than it does now, still glow like a fading ember; the continuously drifting Time simultaneously wears, carves, shapes and if the person foolishly does not pay attention at all, what could never have been born is destroyed, that the attractive ara - at that time - did not want a sweetly babbling baby because of her bikini line.
As a mortal - even so -, he has cheated himself a lot, because he has been constantly sobered by the fierce series of judgment days; if necessary, if not for the last time, the merciless, brutal whip of Reality can strike him at any time. A restless, storm-beaten soul cannot rest in peace and quiet; It must dismantle itself, as a supposedly solid cell-molecule, which is being squeezed with increasingly ruthless executioner-like rigidity by the fetters of the body's diseases.
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 12:17 AM UTC
Homeward headed, I was driving my way
Down I-95 past the Old Mill Way in a yawn,
Turning the radio on and looking to play
Something to keep my consciousness on.
Few cars out at 1:00; it had been a long day;
I'd stopped off at Charlie's to sit with a friend
To blow out the kinks and let myself say
What a **** the company minion had been.
Four hours burned off like the late morning haze;
When I'd sobered back steady, was able to drive,
I paid off my tab, left my friends in a daze,
Headed the Jeep to the feed ramp for old 95.
At one in the morning, the traffic was thin;
When I heard Harleys roaring behind,
I scoped the mirror for the lanes they were in,
Double-blinked then to see if I was road-blind.
No bikers behind, no bikers beside, but sound
Like a squadron blared loud, and I felt a cold chill,
Thought better of having the last couple rounds,
Wished I'd stayed an hour before I'd settled my bill.
I glanced to the side, though the sound was all 'round,
Saw a glimmer of green glowing chrome in the dark,
And fire ethereal from pipes blooming sound,
From a Shovelhead, barely visible, flat black and stark.
But the rider's appearance emptied my chest:
Dark goggles, full beard and a gray flowing mane,
Black leather with signs on his tattery vest
And a number embroidered below the man's name:
"Rider 88" glowed red through the gloom,
A ******** burned on the withering arm:
"We rise again!" I heard a voice of doom,
"We're meeting at the old red barn!"
He wasn't alone, though I couldn't see
The posse he rode with, the pack he was in;
I felt a squadron of hellions run through me,
Concussive, incessant, their rattling din.
And then, except pavement beneath the Jeep's tires,
The howling of wind and crackling "Cotton-eyed Joe,"
Nothing but the road after midnight, no sirens or fires,
And me, shaking hands on the wheel, alone.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC
Superhero man
Defier of all odds
The world’s a symphony
A guitar chord
A melody
Everything is song
Buried away for all the years
Slowly, surely unearthing
Through the cracks
I see a familiar face
yet worn from the world
Sobered by truth
Flattened by reality
But in there somewhere lies
a glimpse of optimistic youth
That shines through
within every note
Music man, impossible man
Laughing in the face of
probability
Nov 16, 2010
Nov 16, 2010 at 1:45 PM UTC
Her eyes jaunted through my
Oppositional ghostliness,
Her hair screams “soft” in my
deaf but imaginative hands,
Her wineglass-visage stripped
My hollow strings of anomie,
Her uncorked skin spraying
On my lust-parched and sobered soul,
Her moonstruck glow poisoned
The rivers of my reveries,
Her poise dialectic
With wonders of the infinite,
Her breathe is shattering
The nihilistic love below,
Listless ears loosen by her
Magnetic harmony, “Hello”
Aug 2, 2010
Aug 2, 2010 at 9:19 AM UTC
Ten shots of tequila
can sure make me numb,
but it didn't erase everything.
I sobered up too quickly,
and still had flashbacks of you
in my sleep.
Alcohol isn't the answer,
but, I drank it anyway.
(d.d.b)
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 1:53 PM UTC
She lived inside an elegant home,
with topiaries and garden gnomes.
She went to school and on her first day,
she met a girl who was her friend until may.
Her friend left their town on a one way flight.
She cried and cried and cried all night.
She forgot her friend with the help of her mom,
she doesn't know her name because life goes on.
She lives in apartment B25
standing in the hallway of her Junior high.
She swore she loved the boy with the rectangle glasses,
it was fate because they had all same classes.
He broke her heart at the end of November,
but her older brother helped her remember.
In spark of amnesia, suddenly he was gone,
she has forgotten his name because life goes on.
Moving around from place to place,
Her happiness seems to have escaped her face.
Her mother hasn't talked since her dad was killed,
the breaks screamed as he was thrown down a hill.
Her brother is homeless strung out on drugs,
only comfort she has is her high school friends' hugs
She's ditches classes every single one,
knows not the names of her teachers because life goes on.
Her brother sobered up but it all went to hell,
he started serving his country which bid him farewell.
Mourning both deaths her mother drinks tons,
and stays in her room afraid of the sun.
Alienated and forgotten the girl cuts rows
cuts too deep, shuts her eyelids and goes.
The ambulance arrives but she is already gone,
but she is already forgotten because life goes on.
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 3:22 AM UTC
Pardon me, I know this is a pick-up line
As standard as my Chevy four-wheel drive,
I was at the end of the bar when you passed by.
I don't come on often, I'm usually a little shy
I couldn't help but notice your blue eyes,
They are as blue as the western sky.
Your hair is like threads of silk, how it shines!
Your face is friendly. Can I be your guy?
May I sit in this chair by your side?
I'd like to have the barkeep bring you another white wine,
And sit and talk a while, can you spend the time?
I'd really like to win you over. I think you're looking fine.
My impression is your're just as sweet as a mother's lullaby.
The soft lights are bringing out the longing in your eyes.
I didn't mean to intrude in your thoughts tonight.
I only came to ask you out. Can I be your guy?
No, Madam, I didn't see your ring. Gee, it's nice.
I wouldn't change a word I've said, please, pay no mind.
I'm glad we got to share this time, it seems right.
I'd like to stay and finish my drink, while I pine.
I'll thank-you, then leave with a friendly good-bye.
As soon as I've sobered, I'll go to my truck. Home, I'll drive.
I'm a little confused... Where is your man tonight?
Oh, I'm sorry I guess I'm just envious of your guy.
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
He says to
Come on over,
Pleads
For movies
And my spine
Against his stomach
But,
I'm sober tonight
And the thought
Of allowing my body
To fold into his
Without his
Going into mine,
Shakes me into
A reality too
Cold and harsh
To bare;
I'm not available
For sobered up love.
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
I woke in a sweat
to the sounds of screams
at 3am
with shaking hands & ringing ears
I couldn't close my eyes again.
A women's distress
just outside the window
sobered and terrified me
leaving me
in a ghostly state
determined to visit each room
and count each sleeping head.
This call of the wild
from fox to fisher cat
how the shrill beckoning of nature
reaches and echoes everywhere
peering out to the woods
it is only fitting that this man
be deemed the real intruder.
Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 12:34 PM UTC