Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Karmen Mar 2016
Tweaker Tweaker
Did you eat any dinner
And Have you showered
Tweaker Tweaker
How long have you been awake
When's the last time you had real sleep
Or is everyday maintained
W/ 10mins every half hr.
Tweaker Tweaker
Do the shadows still appear
Are the voices the only thing you hear
Is what you feel inside your skin
Even real or just made up in your head
Tweaker Tweaker
Do you even care
The ones you love miss you so much
Do you even care
You've lost your life before 25
Tweaker Tweaker
Please get better
Reach out for help
Put the needle down
Drop the pipe, hear it shatter
Blow away that line you just crushed up
Tweaker Tweaker
It'll be alright
Your loved ones are still near
They still care
Reach out for help
Don't be scared
Everyone only wants to help
Tweaker Tweaker
When you quit
The devil will shout
It won't be easy , count on that
It will be worth it
You'll get to live
So try your best
Beat past this, you'll get through this
Slowly but surely
You'll make to 100 days sober
Reunite with all your loved ones
Employeed with a growing family
Is what will come
When you decide  
It's time to end the Devils game
So
Tweaker no more,
but a lady or gentleman
Good for you
You've come far
Keep your mind positive
I'm proud of your sobriety
Congratulations  
You're living
& now you see why
Sobriety was always worth it
Tweaker no more
Lady or gentleman
How was the meal you just had
Was the shower the best you've had ?
Did you finally get some sleep
Were you able to escape
the shadows and voices from in your head
Tweaker no more
Just admit
This is the best you've felt
Since your first time trying crystal  
You feel human finally
There's no going back
To tweaker island
You won't make it out
The second time around
So hide your very best
Keep yourself busy
And talk out loud
When you feel like
you Might relapse back
into tweakers land.  
With no chance to survive another night
equitube May 2019
On the south side of kelso if it's there that ya choose to go
Well if its there ya go then ya just gotta know bout a man named tweaker joe
Now tweaker, he's a scrapper and if ya go down on his door
Don't you worry about wakin him up. He aint slept since 74
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than a five eared dog

Now tweaker hes a scrapper and he likes his shiny things
And he likes to see what fun he has by the chaos that he brings
He got a custom BMX bike with a flashlight on the grill. He got 32 lb of brass in his pack, he got a dope bag in his shoe.

Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog


NOW Friday bout a week ago Tweaker scrappin cars. But at the end of the alley sat a cop named Thurman and ooh dat cop looked ******

Well he cast his light upon joe cuz Thurman had a plan
Tweaker joe learned a lesson bout messin with a future Sherriff man


Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog


Well the 2 men took to runnin and hes dragged down to the jail
Joey looked like a wrung out tweaker with a couple of teeth left

Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog

Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog
This is quite regional to South Kelso WA but it's funny. I premiered it at karaoke last night but forgot a newly written verse
Phoenix Dec 2015
How to be a great tweaker

1) Go get some drugs
2) Don't take them yet
3) Go get some tweaker friends
4) Go get some snacks and take a shower
5) Put on clean clothes
6) Go to a tweaker friend
7) Give them the drugs
8) Walk over to a light post
9) Give it one dollar
10) Go eat that food
THE END.
No clue. Write a How-To poem. Write a poem instructing someone how to do something – could be something you know how to do very well (I can bake a great loaf of bread) or could be something you have no idea how to do and are working out the steps toward (Fixing a hard drive is beyond me) or it could be something completely imagined. Consider writing the poem as a series of numbered steps with no step being longer than 2 lines
Lindsey Kristine Sep 2015
Dear Crystal ****,
I loved you
I put so much trust in you
I spent every hour of every day confiding in you
I told you my deepest fears
I let you know how broken i was
and you ******* took advantage of me
You took everything i owned
you stole my family from under me
you robbed me of all my money
We never had a healthy relationship

From the first night i met you
you beat me into a ****** pulp
You made me hate everyone
You turned me into a monster just like you..

You dug your claws into me
You slit my skin with your razors of control
But you just brushed it off and kept destroying me
I tried so many times to leave you
I tried so hard to cut you off
But the attemps just failed

You flooded my mind with thoughts of you
You gave me flashbacks of when we were together
I heard your voice screaming when all i wanted to do was forget about you
You controlled every aspect of my mind
my body
And my life

Then one day i couldnt take it anymore
Your abuse was to muc for me
You had me on my knees begging for a saving grace
I cried
I screamed
I begged god for the light
I wanted to die
I stood on the edge of bridges
I stared at knives and blades
I felt like i couldnt continue with you
and like i definitly count continue without you..

Then one dark august night
God awnsered my prayers
He wrapped his arms around me and rocked me to sleep after so many weeks without closing my eyes
I slept for almost 4 days
Waking only to use the restroom and to shove any food i could find in my face
You slowly left my system

You didnt go peacefully of course
You paniced
You clawed
You begged me not to do this
but i didnt listen

I stayed true to myself
I finally left you...

Things wernt smooth at first
I felt lost
I was confused about everything involving life
I didnt know who i was
I thought i would for sure go running back to you
But i gave it time

I pushed through the hot and cold flashes
Ignored the hallucinations and the fevers
It was pure hell on earth
But the torture was worth every second because leaving you was the best decition i have ever made for myself

Tomarrow is 30 days free from your shackles
Life still is a constant struggle
But honestly
I would not expect any different after breaking free from the cage of satan and into the sunlight of heaven

I now hae so many things to be greatful for
I have a roof over my head
I bed to sleep in thats not jail or a hospital.
I am a cherished member of y family again
I found love unexpectedly with a man who makes me feel like the most beautiful woman on earth
I have my goals and morals back
I see a future for myself
and most of all..
I am thankful i am breathing because you almost killed me

Someone once said
"Dope heads never quit, they only take extended breaks"
Well, i am proud to say i never am allowing you back into my life

So thank you ****
Even though you shattered every part of my soul
I now have a brand new outlook on life
I also never would have asked my now fiance for a ride home if you had never made me so sick i was in the emergency room
I dont regret you
Because i learned so much about myself and life from you

But now i can finally say...
I ******* hate you and i will never be with you again

Sincerally:
One greatful proud, life loving forever ex tweaker <3
My letter to the monster I overcame.
PEARL SMOKE Sep 2014
Pretty Girls
Every Where, Beautiful Image
Angel Heart, Brain So Smart
Confident, independent, Successful
Then iTs Stressful
Disappointing, heartbreaking
Seeing
Some of these girls fall into the wrong trail.
Influenced, peers, relatives, boyfriends, homegirls
Got them to inhale
A Substance so strong
They dont seem to see it
The new life lane there on, once they
... continued
Butch Decatoria Dec 2016
They call him "Tweaker"

Those in the neighborhood of Spring Mountain

and Desert Inn, those who pace

the same streets and sleep in the same block.

He's ironic and contradictory,

calling everyone he happens

by "Slim"

his emasciated smile

black potholes and pyrite

is as genuine as his intentions

shaming traffic with his sadness

cardboard paper signs

"Just trying to get something to eat"

There should be a question mark

My exclamation point

No excuse not to give...

So here you are "slim" collecting the guilt

All the dollars a day in your concrete quilt

and your own red Target  

shopping cart...


Caught red handed behind 7-11

In the alley (cats avoid)

with a dub, a dime, or nickle sac

god smacked...

carrying conversations

With / a / no one...
Michael DeVoe Jan 2010
To the tweaker who just ate lunch
On the side of a 55 mph highway
I'm not staring because I'm judging
I can judge without looking
I'm staring because I want to know
If my eyes can slow down your limbs
Like the arms of a fan
So I can see that you're still somebody's daughter
I'm staring because I understand
Never mind the gawking eyes of midday traffic
Never mind the glares of the gas station clerks
I understand
You're just having lunch
I understand
The bugs, the tics, the needs
You are not a stranger to me
You are who my sister used to be
You are what the father of my niece
Is trying not to be anymore
You are every shady character
Who ever knocked on my door asking questions
I do not know your name
But I know you
I know you were once somebody's daughter
And I hope you still are
I'm not here to pass judgment
Definitely not here to help
I know all to well there is nothing I can do
I just want you to know I know
And so does any body you're trying to hide it from
And they'll be waiting up for you
Whether you come home or not
Your mom hasn't had a full nights sleep
Since the last time she saw you
I hope for her sake
It was this morning
And I know you won't believe this
But grown woman and all
Your dad just wants to bounce you on his knee
But what I know most of all
Is that your little brother
Can't go two hours without crying
He's got ulcers again
And he misses you
You probably see him the most
But he hasn't seen you
Since you took your first hit
He misses your advice
He misses your hazing
And all he wants is a sober hug
And I'm sure this isn't what you wanted to hear
During your picnic
But it's everything I wish I could've told my sister
Even if she wouldn't have listened
I'm not staring to judge
I'm staring to care
And I don't presume to know what addiction is
But I do know how it feels
I just watched you barely cross the street
I can't imagine you making it
Wherever you're going tonight
So if you die
I hope there's **** in heaven
But if you by some miracle don't
I hope rock bottom's not to far down
And that one day you get clean
And start to make amends
So you can remember what it's like to dream
And if that day ever does come
Do me a favor
Sit on your father's lap
Sleep in your mother's bed
And hug your little brother
Because there's a girl he could use some help with
No matter what you've done
Or how much pain you've caused
Through the twitching
The nervous glances
The weight loss
You're still somebody's daughter
I know you
I understand you
Enjoy your lunch
A collection of poems by me is available on Amazon
Where She Left Me - Michael DeVoe
http://goo.gl/5x3Tae
PEARL SMOKE Sep 2014
iN & Out Of Rehab
       iRelapse
Then Collapse
iNever
        Commited To Sober Living So Why Are People Tripping?
     Drug Programs
Are A Waste According To My Case.
        im Never  Going to Stop
 unless i O.D And Drop
But Even iN Heaven Thats iF iRise.
            With the Angel
imma Continue Tweaking Cause iM A ****** Tweaker
     Or iN Hell With Fallen Angels.
It'll Be Better,
       Since iSold My Soul To The Devil.
He Never Asked
iJust Gave iT Up.
iFell iN Love With A stimulant Drug made up Of Chemicals ****** Poison But idgaf il Keep Dosing.  
 Went From Snorting To Smoking
    Methamphetamine
iLet iT Get The Best Of Me.

Part 2
Out & iN
2014 iTs Krazie
iM Back To This Dope ****.
Its been Already 4 years and
Im still Addicted.
In & Out
Of Rehabs, Different Drug Programs and Sad That iStill
Havnt learned ****.
Got Out November 19 2014 For The 3rd Time
And im Still Twisting, Getting Lit
Ilove Living Twisted
Im on a comedown
Im irrated right now wanting to take
Another hit.
the soul of Mother Nature
I am a natural born hater
I seek justice and freedom
a life of no illusions
and
no cops to harass me.
JoesephStapp Sep 2015
Look at him twitching
You know he's tweaking
His jaw swinging back and forth
But there's no speaking
See's something down
In the carpet twinkling
He gets all excited
You know what he's thinking
Anything he finds
He's going to be smoking
I wouldn't be laughing
Because he ain't joking
Down there for hours
Refusing to fail
Doesn't even slow down
After smoking toenail
Smokes up almost
All that he finds
He hears a noise
Now he's peeking through the blinds
He's been smoking too long
And he's up all night
Doesn't have a job
But that's alright
He's finds a dumpster
And without any warning
He's dives in searching
Til the early morning
That's just the life
Of a tweaker you see
Always out hustling
To get his **** for free
If you see him at night
Approach with caution
He's got a stink about him
Because ain't been washing
Picking at his face
Til his sores are bleeding
A light and a mirror
Is all he's needing
He finally got busted
Now he's on parole
Has to hide his drugs
Up in his *******
It's a shame, but that's the way
A tweaker gets by in the world today
His family don't want him
And he don't have many friends
His life is cut short
And that's how it ends
Everybody knows him
But no one knows his name
They just refer to him
As "That dope smoking Lame"
Sa Sa Ra Nov 2012
I just knew I had to get there
try to begin again again yay
it was not conveniently along
the way to any ordinary business
else i had along to get on this day
but when i finally arrived i forgot
if it were the coffee or the chocolate
shop...20 oz got the mud and like me
just a single dark chocolate coconut turtle love
no trip to sip upon my way to self serve raw milk cows
and so return to head of the class or is it the line free pass
and refill...so coffee shop and coffee house does play; 'your troubles
are my troubles every dear sweet day'; sip sip 'how are you today', 'I don't believe' she said;
'but i have nothing else better to do myself' I'd say...we're acute of mars and where we are across
enchantments and beyond the covering of the bridge and bridges...wifi sure if you like so very need; 'email leave it here' she's owner 'there's the pad' 'but what?' oh silly me 'do I get' fearing junk and praying for the hand signed invite to the 'Caffeine Ball' in the tiny little town with two chocolate shops just in case you are northern or southward bound, you're 'Cafe Casual' or 'Belgium Tweaked', she the owner tickled me 'you get my email'!!!

...here and there it is the season of the witch; and here today it's black tight city in the pretty country sweet nitty gritty; soccer so too the day and I don't know the preppy privates or the awesome lovey local blessed pirates; moms and girls all a twirl and I'm just trying to empty this lovely cup; this sweater too is dark and fairly long but upon the tights its out of sight but upon any other else it's something else; here is mom silver lovely flows as she too can bounce about as if she's the star ready to run and play kick in the winning goal, saves the day again again again, and the line is steep and the shop full of eye candy take home treats; and too tights sporting is she though jumper; guess they don't got to be so long in seasonal dark bold yet subtly nifty blackish white grey shifty plaids with tinging blue line-ish sky-ish snuck sneakin' in and out and oh the kicker so very dainty being in defiance like of gravity as in light and loosely sweet, and the lucky man for the ring upon the left of hand, but it's all lovely to see the happy be and the treats she seeks to take home to for about that lucky other and at times we are other me's but there this time he is he; and I've got 6 oz to go before my free pass to head of the class upon the tip of the spear nothing to fear before the all waiting for the dearest of sweet service the all so love here; nah no Starbucks come close to dare about anywhere the near blessed be here, we all so are; our bubble ya, or so I am most likely blaspheming here for true I can repeat I am overly needy speaking for myself and so overly shameless about my overly humanness at the risk of judgement and inhumanity; so it is better to know thyself first and foremost;

6 oz and I'm still working hard sip or gulp b/s or bust but then silver soccer plaid treat tweaker; there we are; "I love the plaid" said I, "Oh why well thank you so much" "That's lovely" I am not used to compliments" she seemed so...well I'd love to know, "I saw the ring" I said "and that should be no penalty"

...but I am never prepared for the overly shocking and we lost ourselves beyond our paths crossing and out beyond the door; I imagine we are, she is routin' team and life the more for all; 
once upon a time
 I was overly dedicated to the loosing cause with all endearment and flattery in every way first thing in the morning and like every night tag team between raising angels and in defiance of everything I have ever heard they say about what you just can't get with a man; but then they forget to tell you if it just so happens; there may be better men you can steal from and who cares what if from other women other husbands and their retirement plans; while we're at it I don't worry 'bout that but blessed be I ain't no Mr Right even though overly right for much right right now, though nearest my age I wouldn't then stand a chance to be fooled by sweet angels but who rarely just don't get a **** thing not 'bout me my deep and long term needs and cares, not that any couldn't but I ain't spelling out those tales here now so well;
but hit me it did that goddess blessed soccer mom-ma
not used to compliments ripping me up still
and forever till we get the heck out of
our b/s self created living hell
which repeat repeat
our simple choosing
in the more willing
and overly
responsive
here we are
in the better
place for heaven
ain't that true as well...

I wish I could ask is anything real
but it's all true as well,
if we ever got real out
of here this way

look out we'd might
just miss all the
HELL
'O'!!!
Donald Guy Nov 2012
A late hour. Don't even look at the clock.
Every fiber of my good sense yells go to
sleep and I do not. Every bit of logic
understands that I need to wake in fewer
hours than I needed to sleep in the first place
Still I sit here
Listening to music.
Writing a poem. Staring idly
at a browser window. The lights are on, the blinds
drawn. When the sun begins to rise, I will not see it
I've seen several sunrises recently
I remember what they look like.
In the midwest somewhere, a tweaker sits
awake for the third day. Chasing vapor and ghosts
He's seen the sunrise too, perhaps an hour later
He may or may not remember
We run from the cousin, but he finds us
The sandman cometh. And
Enter night
and what dreams may come
Locked in the struggle we all lose,
Running from comfort and sanity at full-speed

                                     10.03.11
                                     D.B. Guy
_Poems in Autumn_. #5 of 7 .
Nods to John Wieners' The Hotel Wently Poems (particularly "A poem for vipers") & William Corbett's MIT course 21W.756 Writing and Reading Poems
Sia Jane Nov 2013
**** head, struggling for breath
Final hit, before the red
Light flashes, warning to stop
Over dose, **** the innards
She never chose to lose this
Battle, between herself & it
Where'd she go, lost in space
Chasing herself, a dog with his tail
Praying to an above, to lead her
Straight laced, not swerving off track
Please God save me, her last plea
Before another day dawns, her final wish
Sketcher, tweaker, where's that syringe
The lights too bright, reality a curse
Rolled up in rehab, another ghetto kid
Not this girl, high class, white, moneyed
Lost to the night, speed freak, hopeless
Drowning in addiction, using again
Chemical structures defining her fate
Her brain the game
Disfigured face, unrecognizable eyes
Family love, isn't ever enough
Rushed to ER, another broken soul
Promises that drugs will save her
When only she can ever
Save herself
This time, she's not another life
Lost
The Gods sure blessed her, not with
Her wish
So she's packaged off to rehab
The third times a charm, right?

© Sia Jane
Ben A Jenkins Nov 2010
Left my soul in the trippin spoon. Gave it a shot now I think I'm through. Now watch me ride on and see it through. Until we meet again. A chicken crows in the dead of night. Another tweaker, been up all night. In the dark chasing dragonflies. Now its time for the morning light. So welcome home. The phone rings but I don"t pay the bill. I probably spent it on a ****** pill. But he still can't find a thrill. Where did the mortal go. Back to the trippin spoon.
thank you. this is my medicine.
JM Sep 2014
I ate a whole bag of
cheetos one at a time,
savoring each cheesy bite,
and watched two seasons of
South Park as my friend tried to
hit a vein.

**** man. I got little ones, they keep rolling.

It took her hours.
Forearm
Shins
Wrists
Other arm
Calfs

"What the **** man, why even ******* bother? Why not just smoke it like everyone else?"

******* tweakers

She says the high is worth it.

That rush, man. *******!

But really,
no matter how ****
they are,
or used to be,
nobody likes
a spun out
tweaker *****.

*Nobody
Lucy Tonic Nov 2011
Go back to your violent grace
Your elegant waste
Your newspaper paste
Trained tweaker taste
It’s all good
It’s all legal after all
But the future is moving
Too slow at a rapid pace
When the rabid ones
Are not free to die
An every electrical device
Unmoving, ruins your life
Soon the candles won’t burn fire
And the night will tame all desire
Slave to light sockets
Which were paid for from your pocket
You’re walking on a street of waves
An even dead trees somehow misbehave
When on every corner, inside them all
There’s the dearest, faintest, little hum
Yeah, there’s always an end to this
But knowing them they’ll ruin it
Do a down periscope on your soul
Is there anywhere left to go
That’s not gridlocked or sold
Well, now I really know
The worst is yet to come
Homunculus Mar 2015
I’m a steam rollin street sweeper,
Bomb droppin heat seeker,
Warrior and peacekeeper,
Geek tweaker huffin ether.
I’m the sage, and the seeker,
I’m the audience, and speaker,
I’m the follower, and leader,
As I’m both, I’m also neither.
I’m a genius, I’m an idiot,
An erudite illiterate,
I’m about as insignificant
As I am magnificent
The hero, and the villain
Nervous wreck while I’m chillin
I’m the men, I’m the women
Spittin' facts while I’m pretendin'
I am more, I am less,
I invest, I divest,
As I focus, I digress
I am cursed, I am blessed
Serious, as I jest
Hyperactive, while at rest
I’m the worst, I’m the best
I’m the grade, I’m the test
I’m the train, I’m the tracks,
The uncharted, and the map,
I’m the boot, I’m the strap,
I’m the hand, I’m the clap
I’m the black, I’m the white,
I’m the day, I’m the night,
I am everything and nothing
I am wrong, I am right.
Yup
Charles Berlin Mar 2010
TELL TELL TELL
Me about the hell of sin
While I can
SMELL SMELL SMELL
The love-stink of your next of kin
I'll
BURN BURN BURN
My blood is made of gin
It drips down
Sticks to
Stains your chin
Lascivious and lurid is your predator grin
When with vicious curling rictus
You inflict this, you begin
DECIEVER ****** LEADER
My devout Sunday morning tweaker
Set us up in rows of pews
We sit and listen, you spout and spew
Don't presume us to be in virtue weaker
Than you, my fire and brimstone preacher.
I am the crow
which rolls walnuts from your roof
I wear the morning star as my crown
I haven't had a proper shower since last month

and I don't care.

diaries from a tweaker living in her Lincoln Towncar.
Filmore Townsend Nov 2012
quips scrawled on scraps of paper, written
during a come-down stupor. something
she wrote, and then proceeded to destroy.
(i gathered all the pieces but have become
too lazy to care how she upset herself)
drawings drawn in between sentences,
in between words. in between syllables. drawn
to obviate thought, to put me somewhere
between Zen and poser. (the drugs obviate titles,
but i’d hedge my bets on the latter)
the remains of the Urban Squirrel Hunter –
a mythology of the Grey Fox –
shredded in the maw of a blue heeler-mutt.
written while ******, drunk, and heat-stroked.
poetry of a homeless kid.
ramblings of an alcoholic, ravings of a tweaker,
with commentary by the one who is just visiting –
       self-destruction is all we can ever be certain of.
religion created in a notebook while
doing research on a chemical. figured out what
near-death means, found life by dumb luck.
found life via pocket valiums,
gave up religion while sweating in the snow.
If materials are your life then you’ll spend it all on your own
Share it all, give it back, make a tree grow
So what you can’t afford college,
There are  children that can’t afford dinner
Don’t pick up the pennies you drop,
Walk right by every homeless man
Saying “he probably just wants another pack of smokes, or a case of beer. what a ******* tweaker”
Never gave the thought that he was **** out of luck
Maybe in highschool his mother died and he started to **** up
But when it comes to you yeah, that’s what it’s all about
Buy the latest purse and the coolest shoes have a snazzy car And fresh tattoo
  You might be a doctor but you barely passed
Now a days all you have to do is show up to pass
And if it doesn’t work just shake your ***
Claimed to be a feminist
But you sure gave head
Made a **** good secretary,
and at the end of the day the boss was making your bed.
Paying your bills
Buying your meals
david badgerow Mar 2017
as honeysuckle grows tight on the fence
& the scent of jasmine burns in my nose
i can hear a child's laughter on the hills
& watch your cheeks burn hotter than the sun
when you tell me about your **** addict mother

how she lived in the econo-lodge dumpster for a while
painting cryptic symbols & mountain landscapes
on the outside walls still wearing the unsteady boots
she's had since her life in colorado
but she was scared of someone checking in it
while she slept so she didn't sleep
instead she conversed with the wimpering wind
& used the toy telescope she stole from your baby brother
to sing to the stars so she didn't feel so ******* alone

last summer you say she camped in the graveyard
behind the methodist church in town & spray-painted
the headstones as they climbed up the hill together
because she harbors too much pride to be
just another tweaker with her hand out

she's on guard against wickedness at all times & no longer
sells her love to method-acting men who don't love her at all
but she doesn't wear ******* anymore either because
her last pair were so soiled with *** she burnt them
in effigy on their last night of action

you say you miss her
& wish she'd get sober
but she's never been sober
& that's why your brother
was born with a stutter

she has warrants for her arrest in two counties
& surrounds herself with withering flowers because
she feels dead inside already
when she sinks her face into
the stem of the bulb & inhales she thinks
she is the one thing in the galaxy
god doesn't have his finger in
her stomach churns with hunger
flies hover around her & light on her
big as black crows resting on a dead tree

you say you haven't heard about her in
going on a month & ask me if i think
she's still alive
i say i saw her just last week
i was a pensive beetle perched on the wainscoating
she was stumbling out of a parked car at dawn
to take a wilderness **** down by the river

her smile is no longer a pretty thing i noticed
as she crouched to release the stream of early morning
maple syrup ***** knocking on the biological door
she said she's slept in her bedroom-car
so many consecutive nights that she distrusts houses
says she's scared of walls &
****** outside so many mornings after
that she's terrified of bathrooms
claims an allergy to porcelain
she even feigns an aversion to trains but
we've all seen the tracks on her arms
& the pits in her cheeks like she
sleeps draped across the railroad
at night tempting the cycloptic executioner

but she doesn't sleep at all &
she doesn't dream of you or your brothers or
of the days when she lived in a house
her tattoos have all become crude wax crayon
depictions of sunflower blossoms
needle drags & match strikes
she wraps & braids her hair with gnarled fingers
& bottle caps she finds on the riverbank
she bathes in hysteria at midnight
& washes her swollen eyelids each morning with dew
she fights paranoia with the ghosts in her throat
& stupor with stones from the dark bottom of the river
she is a frail bag of muscular potential living
in a finger-painted 97 pontiac sunfire with
a splintered patchwork windshield
& she is never coming back to love you
RyanMJenkins Mar 2014
It was anger,
Despair
Hurt,
Rage, building from an undisclosed sadness

Messages were cryptic
Aggression was slipped in.
Spoken word, otherworldly
We didn't realize how serious it was til you put your hand on me.

Dictating out of your element,
you crawled under our skin.
We thought that living room,
Would become a sanctuary of sin.

Tension could have been cut from the air,
helping us to breathe
I didn't know of the warning
Still we collectively wanted you to leave

A reliance on violence creates ages of defiance

Every topic with a twisted stance
We were riding on good vibes,
You wanted no part in that dance

Happy you confirmed that we weren't demons,
But you expressed audible blades for no reason.
In attempts to cut all of us you wanted to put a leash on.
For here in America being severely damaged is always in season
Manipulating and regulating a life less than half lived
Getting yours should never be the only reason you give.
Beating the **** out of somebody is what you expressed you wanted.
Touch someone I love, and I'll make sure that you're haunted
One, already lives looking over their shoulder
You sneak up, making their bright days colder.
Crushing spirits like a boulder

Tweaker livin'

Chasing roles to fill black holes in your soul
See beyond yourself, day by day losing control
We still chose to see the good, despite you being riddled with dark
Biting tongues, because anything could have been your spark

A split second in my cranium
I was overwhelmed with delirium
When you grabbed my wrist, putting a halt to our stream of bliss
Where I thought violence was appropriate,
The guitar on my lap, an instrument of creation
Completely fluctuated and almost became one of destruction.  

It was as if I felt what you were feeling with your hand touching me
Felt anger enough to see that you wanted to crush the we
Not sure why you followed us to the fest.
But you within our vicinity was an interesting test of restraint.
Tried showing you warmth, but you'd have none of it.
I hope you see life from a new perspective one day, and unconditionally love it.

Sorry we ditched you there, but our friend living in fear of you isn't fair.

Get yo head right, before "The final scene" you spoke of comes true.
A seed of hurt was planted long ago, exponentially it grew.
So high you wanted to take the sunlight from us all, only so we can't have it.

*Just be careful what you wish for, because this life is magic~
Kevin Jul 2018
Turned out
Burned out
His mind a vacant lot
Debris and weeds, grown up
"Stay Out" sign, thrown up
No one to own up
To the mess on the block

Hard to restore
Trying to ignore
The broken concrete
Like wounds unclosed
Crumbling and overdosed
Garbage in the street

A hope at best
To find some rest
In a seamless mind
Like newspapers tossed
In deserted lots
Where no one walks
Without a glance behind
Sam Temple May 2016
Thinking back to Thomas creek and sneaking a peak at the freaky little tweaker
in blown out sneakers a toothless mistress second guessing ******
thrift dressed house guest ******* up my speakers blown out woofer
wolfing down dinner mad slurping curry a beginner at twister
her sister, disaster, got caught ******* the Doberman.. unable to find sobriety
got gang ***** at the sorority doing an impression of Brad Dougherty
shoes to tall falling all wobbly knees knocking hostilely like a rasta in Montgomery
racially outcast Big Boi with a skin tare lash with passion unfashionable bastions
with rashes wear red sashes like Communist fascists I‘m a pacifist with a speeding fist
ready to dis any resistor to this transistor radio I eat filet-minion with boxers on
my mind be gone, like, no one’s home and this body roams all alone
with a *****, I’m a stoner, a postponer, ***** donor, out on loan
bought and paid for, caught with a lawnmower, impersonating a horn blower
like I was Gillespie at the Filmore, or Apollo theatre as a greater Walmart style
wearing a wife beater, not a reader, sort of a ******* not like Kim, more like
a mosquit-er drinking blood like it’s from a hummingbird feeder.
Amanda Kay Burke Jul 2021
I don't know how to say this
Do not want to break your heart
Want to be the person you wish I could be
We'd be better off apart

Where is this going?
Got to be able to tell
Noticing for awhile
Haven't been doing so well

I fought dozens of battles
Silently in mind
Kept them imprisoned
Less conflict confined

I should face problems
But I am a coward so I run
Hard to conquer an argument
You already believe you won

Maybe I am being harsh
I can only take so much
A relationship is supposed to be
More than people who touch

See sometimes feel a tingle
Think "this isn't so bad"
That itself means it is
To deny must be raving mad

The friction is obvious
Where do I draw the line?
I am stuck in an internal war
Between your emotions and mine

My hands might be lonely
When clasped something is amiss
As long as yours fills gaps between fingers
Nobody else can see if theirs fits

If being totally honest
Seems you don't really care about me
Tears drip out eyes all the time
You are too self-centered to see

Trying to build life back up
You are standing in my way
Making things harder than already are
Painting sky shades of grey

I am opening eyes to reality
Hope you do that too
We both need to stop lying to ourselves
We know it isn't true

I taste sorry on my tongue again
Taste regret on my lips
Obligation squeezes tighter
When you put arms around hips

Only now letting you know
How much feelings have changed
My head full of hope for a heavy heart Hung from noose was exchanged

I should have been forthcoming
Informed you was over as soon as I knew
I can't stand causing others pain
Why it took this long to say this to you

But sick of home not feeling like home
In own room feel out of place
You've transformed it to your own
Do not have a single private space

You are a tornado
In wake is a trail of destruction
Many flaws get in the way
About time I move obstruction

Your ego too big for me
To properly see around
In fact how do you even lift your head?
Must weigh a thousand pounds

Your conceited attitude more often than not
Provokes until seeing red
Arrogance unattractive
Try acting humble instead

I cannot picture a future with you
You are inconsiderate and dumb
No ambition or work ethic
Would rather be a ***

You take time with everything
Never met someone so slow
Put so much effort and see no results
Almost no progress to show

Without my aid what will you do?
How will you get high?
Depend on everybody else around you
If you desired you could get by

Lungs filled with poison
Bloodstream with *****
Need crutches to get through each day
Think these substances are helping
They really only get in the way

With only pride and standards
I will continue life in solitude
Better than being with someone who's naive
Not to mention selfish and rude

Consequences for actions
Finally caught up to where we are
Have tolerated a lot of *******
I've decided I'm raising the bar

My goal is to go further in my life
Than you plan to go
Hindering distance to travel
Making it challenging to grow

Soon you'll be left in the dust
Discovering I was right
Won't be able to use me as an excuse
For failure when I'm out of sight

You call me idiotic pet names
What I am in your contacts under is bold
McPoops?
Actually prefer "The *****"
What are you? Six years old?

How many occasions have you pouted?
Sulking because you disagreed
With words said or things done?
I gave no choice but concede

I have every right to be unhappy
How can you not understand why?
May not always be reason for tears
You sure do not help them dry

Are you center of universe?
That is how you act
Helping yourself to anything viewed
You are entitled and that is a fact

I do not know if you do it on purpose
You disrespect everyone here
Using stuff but not asking
To rules you do not adhere

The only person I have ever met
Who is even lazier than me
Make messes faster than you clean up
Cannot handle responsibility

Not to mention you can't keep track
Of any possession you own
Or that you failed to pay back majority
Of money you have been loaned

Your expensive eating habits
And cockiness get on nerves
Believe you are correct about every subject
Isolation what you deserve

You break trust without hesitation
Snitching on me like a rat
If I plead with you to keep a secret
You can't even follow through with that

You probably think we are being mean
That you are misunderstood
If that's true then tell me this
What have you done that's good?

You disassemble stuff like a tweaker
Not putting back in one piece
Have given you so many chances
Still the madness won't cease

It is an eternal struggle
To even get you to barely move
Just procrastinate your life away
After promising to improve

Rather live in solitude
Than with a theif who lies
Took two CATs of my dad's
You thought he would not realize?

And when telling you something
You do not want to hear
Pretend to agree with statement
Goes out the other ear

You have to get your priorities straight
It's clear you never will
How are you expecting to survive
Without ambition
Sapience
Skill?

You expect others to carry your load
Piggybacking much as you can
The behavior of a little boy
How dare you call yourself a man

But when affecting your wallet
You are stingy as they come
Generosity is not in your vocabulary
Unless receiving some

Then have the audacity
To judge the way I live
Degrading me because of choices
After the ****** up **** I forgive

At least I do not blame my dependency
For why I'm unable to function
Worse still you put fault for your addiction
On pharmaceutical corruption

I have met plenty of people
Fed prescriptions as a child
Medicated whole **** life
Their abilities are not defiled

You envision the world to your favor
Instead of how it is for real
Perception the problem here
Delusion rooted in privilege you feel

You have a lot of growing up to do
Wish I would have waited
Gotten to know who you really are
Now I wish we never dated
A breakup poem
Ryan Oct 2021
james has got **** in his mind
he's discovered people of his kind
two in the pink
one in the stink
and "Oh, what's that from behind?"
PEARL SMOKE Nov 2018
I remember
When a the word relapse
had A meaning .
When I’d Explain what it
Meant so you can be aware.
Told you what tempts me
What are some triggers.

I Expected You to
View it as a 911 call.
To help me when I’d fall.

You never payed mind
To the importance of it.
Just like you Didn’t think
Telling you I had an addiction Was something that bad.

I remember when
You Made your own definitions
To all the words I’d tell you.
I’m the one struggling
But you always made yourself the victim when it was me who needed attention, apologize, comfort & to support me.

Temptation & triggers
Have no meaning.
You never cared to look after me.
It wasn’t something you’d have to be 24/7 about.
You never questioned your negative actions & how that’ll provoke me.
You never cared until

A Relapse
Meant I Used because
I wanted to get high.
Finally You show importance.
Not in the way where your concerned if I’m ok & hoping that hit didn’t cause harm.
Concerned to where you stood by my side & talked on why it happened & what can we do to prevent it again.
instead , a relapse means
Talking **** to me , making me feel bad , blaming me, making yourself feel like I betrayed you
Feeling so angry saying I don’t love you & love that more.
You abandon me & go m.i.a
When you were the cause of why i couldn’t handle feeling hurt etc

I remember when
Relapsing made me feel guilty & so bad because I failed you & disappointed you.

I remember When
I’d tell you I’ll never be honest on my sobriety , confess or hand over paraphinillia .
For me to do the opposite of what I swore I’ll never do.
All because it killed me to lie & hurt me to see you stress your mind on doubts if I’m clean or not.
All For what ?
For you To talk **** to me when I confess about relapsing, for you to call me drug addict & insult me calling me Druggie tweaker etc
When I’d Hand you things
Etc

Me Being honest to you & open with my recovery only
Damaged me more.
What I gained wasn’t support.
It was money being thrown at my face telling me to go get high.
Calling me drug addict in many insult full ways.
You made a joke out of
my struggles.
You’ve never been there for me.

How far the meaning & value of relapse once meant.

A relapse now means nothing to me when it comes to you.

Being true to you
Only back fired.
You use it as leverage
To insult me more & have negative things to reply.
“I wouldn’t know, you kept
it from me before” etc
Karmen Mar 2016
Sitting along the curb
Sun shining bright
I await for my drug delivery

Wondering why
It's taking so long
Oh right
They're on Tweaker time

Texting my guy
Asking how much longer
I'll have to wait

The sun is bright
It's heat getting to me
Thinking to myself
Ill be late to work
***** getting ready
I'll pack a bowl
Light it up
Only 2 hits
Then I better get ready

Phone buzzes
My guy explains
He's sent another
To do this deliver

I don't ask why
Or who it is
Just for him to get to me soon

Pace back and forth
Along the curb
Stressing
I'll be late to work
Why's this guy taking so long

I hear the car
Look up fron the ground
Finally this dude has arrived
But to my suprise
It's you inside

Frozen
Thinking is it really you
Unsure
How could this be
It's been a month since I last saw you
I question why
You're the delivery guy
Call you an ***
For not hitting me back up

I ask for the dope
Give you the money
Step out the car
Not saying a word
My hearts filled of hurt
I rush back inside
Text my guy why

He replies why it's a problem
I explain
We spoke about the situation
That delivery guy
He's not just anyone
I didn't want him to know
I've been using dope
Plus he's the reason why
I do more than I can handle
To void the memories
To void the thoughts
Of everything we once were

It's not fair at all
One month passed by
No replies from you
But Instead
I see you
To my suprise
As the new delivery guy
Of this dope
I don't want it anymore

But I must not cry  
And must not think
Pack a quick bowl
Light the flame
Watch the smoke fill
Inhaling and twirling
Exhale, cool
What was it that made me so sad ?

Smile curl
Phone buzzing
Let's go to work
Rush everything
I'm ready to pretend
Like nothings ever wrong
Lights out
Searching for a meaning
Hearts open
But barely beating
Mouths open
Filled with smoke and tongues
Breezes drifting from all our lungs
Lost in those winds
Lost in my mind
Losing everything I once called mine
Dear God don't be real
Joshua Sisler Mar 2017
Piercing sunlight shining through a window,
Ephemeral blades stabbing into me,
Pinning me in place.
That’s what she was.
Absolutely radiant, illuminating with her presence alone.
Rising right with the sun, morning coffee as white as her bed sheets.
Gleaming teeth exposed as she laughs, sweet and fleeting as cotton candy.
Floral sundresses and large hats a staple of hers, forever in a perpetual summer.
Mimosas sipped with a beachside breakfast, the only drink she’ll ever imbibe.
Spending her tropical jaunts seaside, buried in her Nicholas Sparks novel.
Pure, gorgeous, vibrant, carefree, glowing, flawless.
She’s daylight.

But I’m moonlight.
Beams twisted and reflected by the water in closed bays on lonely beaches.
In the 24-hour diners with a woman perpetually smoking a cigarette at the register,
a tweaker passed out in a booth, holding his partners hand.
Under the pervasive neon lights of dying bars,
bearing witness to the drunkards mourning love and liquor lost,
Through forlorn streets, under dimly sparkling lights,
bundled in beaten and weathered coats, just barely safe from the chill.
Drinking wine by the bottom shelf bottle to cloud future-bound thoughts,
feelings spilling out in ink or wine, impossible to tell through the stupor.

Maybe it is true that opposites attract,
maybe that’s the reason
I can’t get away from her.
But maybe it’s hopeless,
maybe I’m the moon,
doomed
to forever chasing the sun across the sky.
Joshua Sisler Mar 2017
It says something about myself
that I see death in dawn rather than a sunset.
That the emergence of life and light means a finality.
That the stilling of the world and its residences is a new beginning.
Is it that I see myself as a predator?
Emerging at night to stalk the metaphorical woods of humanity.
Maybe it’s more simple than that.
On the lonely beaches,
illuminated by the twisted reflection of the moon on the water,
in the 24-hour diners
with a woman perpetually smoking a cigarette at the register
and a tweaker passed out in a booth, holding his partners hand,
under the pervasive neon lights of dying bars,
bearing witness to the drunkards mourning love and liquor lost,
through forlorn streets, under dimly sparkling lights,
maybe that’s where I find myself at home.

— The End —