"toxins" poems
Annoyance from the brains relased toxins I can't control. Dominance over my mind and soul. Hearing through ears on repeat remembering each peice of food on record. Dieing inside the soul from ratched cycles. ADHD, ADHD, ADHD.
I have it do you?
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
Tiny hands barely able to hold a bottle,
now drink out of one,containing toxins.
Tiny ears that used to hear bad words and coo,
now spit them like wildfire.
Tiny mouths that would be forced to take icky medicine,
now pop pills and insert drugs into their being.
Tiny eyes looking at life as a breeze,no cares in the world,now turn into
eyes that crave attention but don’t care what we have to do to get it
We are spoiling the pure bodies we once had.
People are sleeping around,
when I remember the worst thing you could do is hand-hold.
We take the things we had as kids,
and ruin them.
We honestly take the cuteness and turn it into ...
well that's for you to decide.
You pick if your morals are guided with a compass,
or thrown away like garbage.
Who am i to judge?
But I've also learned,these days,My darling..
This is adolescence.
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 6:43 AM UTC
I have kissed boys
Girls
People in between
But lately I have been kissing bottles
Their lips are colder than yours
But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest
Yet as these toxins rush through my veins
I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin
Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me
But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin
While heartache
Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 12:56 PM UTC
You weren’t worth the
Hundred dollars it cost to
Keep you in my car.
Princess got poached by the
League of Losers with Pedestrian Ideals.
I’d spit venom in your direction, if
Poison meant anything to you. But
Akin to most things, so sub-human,
You miss the world moving around your
Ever pulsating veins, and repel these
Toxins with a slip of the tongue.
Around you I could line
Bodies of those you’d loved and left.
Each clasping hands with one another,
Privy to a specific type of pain, only you can
Deal out. And
In the center of the circle you’d
Stare, stunned by your state of
Affairs, and flings. Collectively concerned
For the safety of your
Rotting consciousness.
One by one, I could set these men
On fire, and hand you a place
Where your head could be danced off.
Drunken and diving heart-first into
The burning lake of a
Surfable crowd. Since that’s
All we are, serfs.
I hope the fire gets too close to your
Gorgeous face. I hope the
Love you receive is no more likable
Than a few more licks from the flames.
The scars couldn’t sideline you.
No one can stop ****
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
I'm looking deep into her eyes
*Looking into her eyes...
is like opening a door that leads...
to another door*
Wait..really? OK...I open the door.
*This door leads to a long, winding path,
like the winding path of your love.
The path leads to a third door*
O...K. I open the door.
*This door leads to a spiral staircase
descending down, down, down, deep
into her soul.
At the bottom of the staircase is--*
A door?
A door.
I open the door
The door is locked. The key might be under the mat
Seriously? I check under the mat
Nope, not there. Maybe try under the small rock next to the door
Oh for the love of...I check the rock
There is a key
Wonderful...I unlock and open the door
*Inside this door is a large atrium
the glass ceiling giving way to a
beautiful summer night, the stars
twinkling in the distance. At the
far end of the Atrium, there is a curtain*
Sigh I pull aside the curtain
There is a door
Come on! I open the ruddy door.
*You find yourself in a long hallway,
with fine art hanging along the walls.
Crimson carpet lines the floor.
At the end of the hall is a door locked
with a combination biometric
fingerprint scanner/retinal scanner*
What.
*You have 10 seconds to unlock the door
before the hunter-bots de-atomize you*
What!? Ok! I try my fingerprints and eye!
*The door unlocks and the hunter-bots stand down.
In the next room are three vials. Two of them contain
terrible neuro-toxins that will lead to an excruciatingly
painful death. The third will allow you to continue on
to the next room. You have 30 seconds to choose before
you are terminated*
What the hell is this!?
This is the path to true love hidden deep in her eyes
No, this is insanity!
15 seconds
OK! Geez! Umm..Vial Number 2!
You're totally dead
Oh god!
Just kidding. None of them had poison...was just messing with you
THAT'S IT! I'M DONE WITH THIS
Really? There's only one more door. I swear
...Fine. What ridiculous thing do I need to do to open it.
*It's already open. You find yourself in a circular room
with a pedestal in the center. On the pedestal is a hand
written note. On that note is the key to everlasting happiness*
I pick up the note
*You smell sweet hints of your beloved's perfume and
notice the care that each word of the note was written.*
What does the note say?
*My love:
Next Tuesday Only -- Buy One-Get One Free at J.J's Pizza. Cannot be combined with any other offers/coupons. Must present coupon upon purchase. Expires 1/14/14*
...An expired coupon for Pizza?
Such a wonderful expression of love!
How do I get out of here...
You see a door
.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
son spreads knee blood into ******* &/or
sidewalk chalk.
mixes reds to pinks with head cracking asphalt.
of god & country.
of soggy bread in a lunch-bag; snackpack readied.
he skates.
the concussed ****** of booming youth.
omega he:
to the wolf pack outers.
breathing love of summer, he
is the son drunk on hi-c
& burping.
watching teenaged supersoakers yodel
on a bridge.
florida.
son sneaks out late to rationalize
the city’s features
under strange light & love of nightly people.
boy sculpts body out of beast,
turned dark corners.
arrives swollen.
his father erects a roofed flattop in the backyard slab
with flood light electronics taught to worship
the shred.
mother rattles the blender
on the kitchen outskirts, ***** breathed
& nearing with hugs.
blister-itched.
glossed folds of scar tissue.
those days on summer-beyond when the neighborhood pulsates.
with satellite dishes tuneforking high-frequency vibrations
from outerspace & pigeons explode.
son’s ears bleed, &
the television goes unwatched.
he snaps plank & ankle protein, refurbishing
his legs into iron-rods
or wands of summer anthem.
cold war.
he empties sugar-sweat & toxins
into the storm-drain.
essence of wet heat, skin pinched, & friend
of ghosts.
a three legged dog lay in the shade
leisurely watching the boy skate
on endless.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
In the worst hour of the worst season
of the worst year of a whole people
a man set out from the workhouse with his wife.
He was walking-they were both walking-north.
She was sick with famine fever and could not keep up.
He lifted her and put her on his back.
He walked like that west and north.
Until at nightfall under freezing stars they arrived.
In the morning they were both found dead.
Of cold. Of hunger. Of the toxins of a whole history.
But her feet were held against his breastbone.
The last heat of his flesh was his last gift to her.
Let no love poem ever come to this threshold.
There is no place here for the inexact
praise of the easy graces and sensuality of the body.
There is only time for this merciless inventory:
Their death together in the winter of 1847.
Also what they suffered. How they lived.
And what there is between a man and a woman.
And in which darkness it can best be proved.
10.9k
his breath woke me up every night
we lay in bed; no, it wasn't
that his breath smelled of toxins,
but of dandelions and poppies.
his hair smelled like he rolled around in
fields of roses and he was
the single dandelion that begged and
pleaded to fit in.
he would never fit
in but he didn't know that, so
he kept trying and it was
so beautiful to say the least.
underneath his skin, in-between
his veins and his bones are tiny seeds that
i planted with kisses and they
grow with my love, when i wrap my
bony arms around him and
squeeze tightly - it lets him
know that he's not normal, that he's
not right in the head but
i love that. so when he wakes me
in the middle of the night, as
i lie between him and the emptiness of
the night, i think that i'm dying
but the moon light lingers and i
know i am safe with his flower breath
and the weeds growing in-between
us and the roots that grow out
of my heels and strangle the love
picture frames on our off-white
bedroom wall. i stare at those cookie-cutter
pictures and wish i wasn't right
in the head, too, but if we both were
psychotic, he wouldn't be a dandelion.
so i stay awake and watch
his beauty radiate in the darkness of
the night and wish that i
was that beautiful too. but he
tells me that my battle wounds don't
amount to anything to him, that my skin
is a ghost to him. i wish
he saw me for me, but his eyes
see the beauty that he grows.
but several nights he leaves me and
i am cold and i am worthless and
i pray to a god that he will
come back and taunt me because
i cannot stand it when he is
not here between my fragile arms
keeping me warm and safe.
i beg him when he returns to just
stay the night, just one more night,
because i cannot bare to
sleep without the dandelion amidst
all the rose petals. i need
my dandelion to keep me safe
and to be the needle in the
haystack - i need him to be in my
arms because idon'twanttosleepalone.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
There's an apocalypse coming
And we get to choose which kind
Just listen to the meanings and open your mind
One means revealing
One means demise
Are we gonna keep stealing
Or are we going to open our eyes
We're killing the earth inside and out
Instead of trusting our hearts, we are living in doubt
We can love each other and change the path of the planet
We need to grow our own food, raw and organic
We can't just manufacture everything, process, and can it
Stop the GMOs, pesticides, and factory farming
What it's doing to the planet is absolutely alarming
They create lakes of blood and an earth of toxins
If you read the clock then
You'll see that it's time to change, this isn't how it's supposed to be
We should be living together in a sustainable community
One that helps, nurtures, and loves
One that plants trees and gardens and shrubs
It's time to bring about our utopia of the future
We need to get rid of the lies, the hate, and the torture
Wars, jealousy, and competition have to end
It's time for us to forgive, it's time to transcend
To our new world, our kingdom of heaven
Just read your clock its 11:11
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 9:15 PM UTC
In a class, I'll sit and listen
they'll explain that I have no rights
as a member of the LGBTQ+
they'll say,
with pride of their skin,
black lives DON'T matter-
all lives do.
I'll sit here, OH YES,
I'll sit and listen
they'll talk about girls being ugly
talking about how
there are only two genders
and I'll sit here
relating women to paintings,
weaving them into my poems,
slightly pouting and confused
with my lack of their said gender.
Sighing,
I will sit here and listen
as they repeat the things
I've heard my entire life
and I'll bite my tongue, though not really
a look will pass by, rage seeps through pores
I'll leak liquid anger
until the toxins correct their rotten brains
I know I should say something,
but there are tons of them
and only micro-me.
Weak.
I'll sit here, and I will listen to them as
we all eagerly await the bell
Save us.
we're far apart, so
my mask is off now,
but when it sounds, when it promises peace
RING RING RING
I will stand, turn,
and Black Lives Matter will be almost
as prominent as a tattoo on my face,
the phrase will melt,
it will stick,
it will attach to my mouth
and say
scream
sing
the words that I cannot.
and I'll keep Sydney's hoodie on
as my bulletproof vest,
her chain against my heart
understanding that
THIS IS NOT A CHOICE
Why would I
ever
choose the pain I went through for this?
only to go home,
and hear more from my step-father,
with the victimizing mother actings
as if it never happens
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 4:31 PM UTC
i still **** my tummy in,
imagine it smooth.
my mom was surprised when i confessed
i was shirtless,
with nothing but my sports bra.
(at least I’m tan)
you say you like my tummy,
and some days I do too.
i still slap my thighs,
imagine scrawny flesh,
stretch marks are lost among
photoshop wonderland.
i’m an hourglass figure, you say,
but I find it silly we compare body types
to glasses, and fruit,
for we are a combination of things,
we are stars, and seas, and candy,
and railroad tracks that sometimes go around in circles until
we *****
i still see my limbs as different people,
and i wish i could detach them like the toxins in my lungs.
people like my ***
so maybe that’s why I move it so much when I’m drunk.
people say I’m Arabic,
people say I’m Mexican,
people say I’m Muslim,
but really I’m all of those combined into a mixing bowl,
and one day maybe, I’ll make cupcakes
and swallow them whole.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 4:20 PM UTC
Jade sauna
just over body temperature
to increase metabolism
smooth blood flow
and sweat out toxins
my hair is up
there are no lines on my pale smooth face
I'm happy and peaceful
I look so serene
and so skinny
"'scuse me you speak Russian?"
it's one of the cute foreigners
I've had my eye on
flirtations ensued
and it was nice
to be looked at
with fascination
with cute wonder
getting complimented
through broken english
as he ran his hands through his hair
smiling abashedly
trying to make sense of my words
as I did the same for his--
we were up all night talking
"no halloween in Russia,
but if had, you be Queen"
he knew nothing of me
just this peaceful calm side
that smiled and giggled
and carried a conversation
like a feather on the wind
he saw a girl he could smile at
and say
"you are very beautiful"
"you have lovely smile"
I'll never see him again in my life
but what a wonderful memory to have of someone
nothing but kind words
and laughter
and peace
serenity
a few of the things
I treasure most,
yes,
what a lovely memory
of Annex the smiling Russian boy
who drank tea with me
at the Jeju Spa
until the sun rose
and the lights came back on.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
30 DPC #21
Rebirth and Overdose
I drink too many toxins,
I can't sleep.
I'm feeling way too boxed in,
Sides too steep.
Don't give me the rope just yet,
I might do something I regret,
And use the rope to run away
and just forget.
Remixed from the work of Aliza Eliora, and her poem, Overdose.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
*We took a picture that day
And I saw something in your eyes
All your love and all your fears
Looking back and now I can see
We were flying, flying, flying like a plane
Baby, back when we were sane
Now we're falling, falling, falling
Standing out in the rain-we were going insane
Waiting at your doorstep and ignoring the pain
We're falling apart with the rain*
*You were my rainstorm and my love story
Breaking down and then down pouring
Thrashing winds right through my worries
Cold hearts making heart strings blurry
Remember when you said "I love you"
Remember when I loved you back
I tried so hard and you broke me
The monsters came up from the sea
Now I'm falling and I can't breathe
I'm drowning, drowning, drowning under the sea*
*My lipstick on your cheek
I said goodbye and now you hate me
The rain washed away all our tears
But up grew pain and all our fears
Maybe we need to let this go
Maybe, baby, but I don't know*
*You were my rainstorm and my love story
Breaking down and then down pouring
Thrashing winds right through my worries
Cold hearts making heart strings blurry
Remember when you said "I love you"
Remember when I loved you back
I tried so hard and you broke me
The monsters came up from the sea
Now I'm falling and I can't breathe
I'm drowning, drowning, drowning under the sea*
*The rain came down and we went up
Setting fire to all we love
Smoke rising so far above
Reaching for something we know not of
Breathing toxins and breaking up
I still love you but it's too much
Calm down babe it's not about love
Start listening and start living
But don't keep forcing me to believe
Because all that does is make me want to leave*
*I tried so hard and you broke me
The monsters came up from the sea
Now I'm falling and I can't breathe
I'm drowning, drowning, drowning
Now I'm falling and I can't breathe
(Drowning, drowning, drowning)*
Under the sea
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
I sip on my green tea
wishing for it to cleanse me.
Wishing for it, to cleanse out the oils and the misery I consume.
Wishing for it to break down my toxins.
Wishing for it ... to cleanse the sections of myself that even I cannot reach.
Green Tea
A substance that supposedly detoxes the belly, but not strong enough to detox the soul
Not strong enough to take away my shadows, my doubt, my ego or my woes.
A drink, not strong enough to hug my spirit at its loneliest hours.
Yet, I sip
.. praying the wet herbs that tickle my tongue shall unlock the gateway, or the path, or the door... to my soul.
So I sip...
And sip...
And sip...
Swallowing it’s brew...and my tears.
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 4:14 PM UTC
*Venturing out
Into the woods.
Everything behind her
Is in Black and white -
Grey, but with a hope-filled
Blue sky.
Her red butterfly
Carries her transformed ideals
Within - it's always hovering close-by.
With every forward step,
Away from this manipulated
painful reality,
The scenery is painted,
Bringing it all to life -
A rainforest green;
Her sacred canopy.
Vivid,
Ever so bright,
Be it, by day,
Or, be it, by night.
Black and white do not exist
On this side of her world -
There's no grey!
Here, even shadows embrace
The blessed, illuminated,
Brilliant, pure light.
Doom,
Gloom,
And dullness,
Instantaneously banished!
Momentously replaced by
An addictive, elated state of vitality -
A miraculous invisible substance;
She embraces her newfound sanity!
Insanity just vanished!
Her aura
Paints her surroundings,
They are so alive -
In high definition, in full colour.
There are no toxins here,
No sorrow,
Nothing is needed,
Time stands still -
No need to borrow.
All of the brokenness
Is left behind,
She wanders off! -
Her soul
Free to unwind.
Here, she has no fear of heights -
There is a sacred comfort
In all that is phenomenally high,
And so,
In all that grows,
From deep down
Below.
She inhales purity
Into her lungs,
She exhales
All of her noxious emotions,
She sighs with relief,
As she lets them all go.
Sinking her feet
Into the rich ground,
Each footstep brings her closer
To the edge of her world;
This is where she is often found.
Here, she is free...
She asks herself "To stay, or to go?"
The answer, she already knows,
The soft breeze carries
This wanderlust decision away,
As the free-spirited wind
Gently blows.
By Lady R.F ©2016*
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 3:11 AM UTC
im gasping for air
reaching out for help
playing my music louder and louder
i give up i inhale the toxins
close my self to the world and yell **** you
letting my ears bleed
this is how you left me
and all i have to say is have a nice life in the light
while i go to hell
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 12:29 PM UTC
Depression isn't always hidden cuts underneath sweaters. It's not always sad music & rainy days. It's sometimes the girl who's always smiling with the sad eyes. It's your friend who always has a joke for you. It's the thin line between insanity and being too sane. The slope of your mouth that doesn't curve all the way into a smile when your thoughts become to heavy for even the hundred of muscles in your mouth to upturn. It's driving a car at 130 miles per hour and wondering how it felt to hug a tree, a numb pain that you can't feel, buts it's everything you feel. It's alcohol going down, down, down until your feelings are higher. It's medication, it comes and goes, always lingering like your allergies on the first day of spring
It's dedicated to you, seeping into your bones like the poison you take up your nose to drown out the inner demons
It's toxins slowly spreading and dissolving your strength and making you wish you weren't you
Depression isn't always black and white.
It's the brightest of teeth that flash the friendliest smiles; sunshine and birds. Because depression doesn't discriminate appearances, she doesn't care who she overcomes and overthrows. Her victims are her best friends and she's patient and she'll wait until your very worst day to come throw her arm over your shoulders and pretend she's there for you, feeding herself with the way your feeding into her shadows.
Depression is everywhere
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
I've quit the killing-
another addiction
my convictions
are open bare.
forgetting what its like,
to deal with stress and the like
without nicotines merciful smile
perfect timing i would say
now that math makes up my days
and work the latter of my nights
i've no form for this urge
that pulls inside
rung out like a sponge
wanting water.
elixir of toxins
heath risks
and iron lungs
chained and yet
so free.
how long can i resist your cough?
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 4:15 PM UTC
One is seemingly more impressed
by the less endowed or blessed
when somewhat incapacitated
and borderline inebriated;
the monstrous unconscious
disregards the likelihood
of fathomless undergarments
in other dubious departments.
Disregard the random blotches
or the involuntary discharges
instead revel in model tonsils
and almond shaped parcels
the comets of multi-notches
like a strange attraction
for disheveled carpets.
The blossoms of toxins
a libation ensemble
almost near horizontal
each movement a bent nozzle
like a prehistoric Narwhal
dancing like a jackhammer
with the elegance of a cement mixer
a broken leaking fissure
seeping vapid glamour
and indecipherable grammar.
The paraphrased clichés
and communiques of praise
like lost prophets put on display
caught in the ricochet of overplay
making an exit with the grace
of a stumbling ballet
down a poorly-lit
nightclub passageway.
Ultimately this can only lead to
the face-plant moment-of-tomorrow
the flooded memory of the-night-before
feeling utterly spent
hungover and hollow
with ill conceived consent.
The: Oh. My. God!
The: ***** is still here,
what do I say?
Hoping inexorably
they would just get up
and silently fade away.
Beer Goggles:
remember to drink sensibly,
or run the risk of
nasty STD's
or unwanted pregnancy
or breathless infidelity
or reckless insincerity
or if you're really lucky,
just another
session in therapy.
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC
We've all been molested
By time and space
The lovers have problems
With keeping their place
A head filled with toxins
Colours, fairy tales
They teach us that men
Can make a home inside whales
My message is simple
Don't stand near train tracks
Though everyone does it
So it's time to relax
Speculations of pain
Hurt me enough
Weak to the core
Though I'm told that we're tough
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
n. A homesickness for somewhere you cannot return to, the nostalgia and grief for the lost places of your past, places that never were.
insatiability makes its burrow
in my gall bladder,
wringing bile from the *****
craving toxins to purge.
i thirst for sweet lexical gaps,
holes in patterns,
dots that don't make shapes
but still gladly connect
komorebi
n. The sunlight that filters through the leaves of the trees
loveliest in the distinction
it is only komorebi
once filtered, green soul
bleeding through
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
GUNS
Tanning
Karate
Outrunning storms on 40
Outlasting my compatriots full of toxins
Yawning after afternoon
Delight and coffees.
I'm going to miss her like hell
When I expatriate,
Her and these simple road signs.
Dec 22, 2011
Dec 22, 2011 at 2:40 AM UTC
I need to see the looming sky
A wide, gasping chasm of color and power
Cold and unfeeling
Hot and passionate
Black fading into red into blue
I need to feel the burning air
Arid and biting on my eyelids
******* the moisture from my skin
And the toxins from my heart
Engulfing me like the embrace of a captor
I need to see the silhouette of mountains
On the striking horizon, eclipsing the void
To gasp in the thin and desperate air
Cacti that claw at the dusty wind, and
Beg for nothing in the kingdom of bones
Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 11:54 PM UTC
Waking up to hazy mornings.
To the bitter cold days of
Early Spring.
I've never seen such a beautiful sunrise.
Nine o' clock cigarettes during
The morning rush.
Saturday morning cigarettes
That muddle my head.
The chilly air mimics the smoke
Spewing from my lips,
Toxins sticking to my lungs
Like glue.
It's another day in Paradise.
The dishes in the sink
Pile up in mountains.
Like the skyscraper laundry stack
Overflowing in the hamper.
Just another day in Paradise.
The street lamps glisten as strings of pearls
Their light reflecting off the silver glare of traffic barrels.
The flowers have not arrived.
The flowers have not bloomed,
And the anxiety is killing me.
Killing me like the coffee craving
Pounding in my head.
The flowers are missing,
Hiding from the stinging cold
Of early Spring.
I've never seen such beautifully dismal skies.
In the mild conversations about the weather,
I tell them that it's never been better.
In a way, it's never been.
I walk down the battleground of sidewalk
And tree roots, the slabs of concrete
cracked and marred by Mother Nature's
Will.
Broken etchings of hopscotch
Blur on the gritty surface, besides
The rose bush peeking out through the
Fence.
They'll never fix these.
Because it's another day in Paradise.
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC