"withdrawals" poems
I’m going through withdrawals. How awful it is to have to keep yourself from speaking to someone because you know if they wanted to speak to you, they would. I’m so deeply rooted in the sand that no waves that crash on land could overturn me. Your footprints are leading away from me, you are moving further and further down the shoreline, your outline growing smaller, smaller, smaller, blending in with the horizon where the sun is setting in lovely shades of red. I do not fear that you will not be loved, because even now I see how the birds adoringly sing your name. I fear the drops of saltwater that fall down my face each solemn night will one day be able to collect into ocean of their own. I fear the birds will be able to love you better than I have. I fear that this titanic amount of heaviness weighing on my heart will be ever-present. Your name is written in the clouds, and I cannot escape it, for no matter how far I run, I can never escape the sky. When I look up, there it is and so are you.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
This is a song to celebrate banks,
Because they are full of money and you go into them and all
you hear is clinks and clanks,
Or maybe a sound like the wind in the trees on the hills,
Which is the rustling of the thousand dollar bills.
Most bankers dwell in marble halls,
Which they get to dwell in because they encourage deposits
and discourage withdrawals,
And particularly because they all observe one rule which woe
betides the banker who fails to heed it,
Which is you must never lend any money to anybody unless
they don't need it.
I know you, you cautious conservative banks!
If people are worried about their rent it is your duty to deny
them the loan of one nickel, yes, even one copper engraving
of the martyred son of the late Nancy Hanks;
Yes, if they request fifty dollars to pay for a baby you must
look at them like Tarzan looking at an uppity ape in the
jungle,
And tell them what do they think a bank is, anyhow, they had
better go get the money from their wife's aunt or ungle.
But suppose people come in and they have a million and they
want another million to pile on top of it,
Why, you brim with the milk of human kindness and you
urge them to accept every drop of it,
And you lend them the million so then they have two million
and this gives them the idea that they would be better off
with four,
So they already have two million as security so you have no
hesitation in lending them two more,
And all the vice-presidents nod their heads in rhythm,
And the only question asked is do the borrowers want the
money sent or do they want to take it withm.
Because I think they deserve our appreciation and thanks,
the ********* who go around saying that health and happi-
ness are everything and money isn't essential,
Because as soon as they have to borrow some unimportant
money to maintain their health and happiness they starve
to death so they can't go around any more sneering at good
old money, which is nothing short of providential.
4.5k
You told me you were "addicted to me"
Who need's drugs, when I had a stronger affect
Your lips are ecstasy
Your heart is LSD
And I crave you like morphine
You numb me
When your gone I have withdrawals
The effect is so strong
You're not perfect
But you feel too right to be wrong
You hit me so fast
And I'm high for the night
But the rush never lasts
I need you here tonight.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
It was great for a time
*** and wine
Wine and ***
Then commitment and open and shut curtains.
Special delivery of child made the bond complete
Six months down the line
Breast feeding was action watched from a distance
Intimacy was a tired look
The neighbours cat looked hot
Killed the lonely nights
Killed the commitment outright
Got to know the lawyer through rapid bank withdrawals
Weekly child visit watched over by Brutus
Bar visits watched over by the world's condemned
Special occasion became a twice yearly treat
Birthday and Christmas, bit of hate thrown sideways.
Then the new man.
Felt good for her.
Maybe some pressure off.
Maybe missed that lobotomy bar lecture.
Years dragged the hate forward.
Time moved on.
One day I wrote her a letter expressing my anger.
She wrote back in triplicate.
I wrote back in double triplicate.
She sent a thesis on men and *****
Suddenly without thinking, we had dialogue.
After a while, we moved on from the anger.
We became human again.
I actually liked writing her letters and receiving them.
We never got back together.
But the letters kept us close.
Sometimes there would be a kiss at the end.
The little bit of love I probably never deserved.
I would mention it to her in my next letter.
Even an *** deserves a solitary kiss now and again.
The bar room lawyers would probably agree.
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
Whats there to loose when ive lost it all
Its not the same anymore everything is about to fall
No one hears me cry im hurting deep inside
The only thing thts helping me cope is this wonderful dope
The feeling of being numb just calms me dwn actin dumb
No one cant replace her ima love her forever
Im just sick of being mistreated
Im constantly hurting
Its not good but i got a couple of grudges im still holding
Is this how im suppose to live my life
I fall asleep with tears in my eyes
I hate having withdrawals its a constant reminder im still alive ..?
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
the LORD & I have been arguing for days
over four small words:
[thy will be done.]
let this be known:
never is there a bigger sacrifice
than compromising the cloth that has woven your soul,
choosing to burn its textile
rather than cling to its strong stitchings & worn-in, familiar pattern,
leaving you in nothing but incinerated rags.
I plea for maintained remains of
this combusted fallacy of joy,
whilst He responds with simply
[I am making all things new.]
please hear this:
there is truly nothing that can mend you here,
nothing that can weave you together &
save your heart from being torn
as a love letter ripped into shreds of its possibilities,
leaving you with nothing but
disintegrated
dreams.
my past is aching to become my present,
& my perceived future has begun to rewind.
my place in this world has become null&void;
without the hope I once held close.
for what happens to a princess
when her earthly prince continues to commit slow suicide?
[peace, My child.]
I can hear my bones screaming to be heard,
as songs on a broken record,
stuck on repeating the same old refrain:
*please please please please please…
[on earth as it is in Heaven.]*
night sweats--
when your mind cannot stop running even whilst you sleep.
shaking limbs—
when your heart trembles & begs to stay alive.
*[plans to prosper you, not harm you;
plans for hope & a future.]*
I’m strung out on all these things that keep me sane
while my mind feels like its going through
withdrawals of the Holy Spirit—
WHERE ARE YOU, GOD
& WHY IS THIS YOUR PLAN?
YOU DO NOT LOVE ME AS YOU ONCE DID.
[those who hope in the LORD renew their strength.]
laying on my bedroom floor
with hymns pouring from my mouth
like tongues of fire & bile
I feel farther from glory
than I ever have.
[He restores my soul.]
LORD
as Christ once begged of you
Take This Cup,
LORD
I plea
for deliverance
for reconciliation
for an exodus from this body that is
full of intoxication
& self-loathing.
[until the very end of the age.]
LET MY SPIRIT RISE FROM THE ASHES
& BE HEALED OF THIS HORROR.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
I don't want to be your hero, nor your ******
Because they provide instantaneous relief but neither are free
The cost, your life, surrendered to addiction
And hero's are a work of fiction
And I want you to love me with no dependency
With out missed calls leading to withdrawals
9.2million are addicted to ******
And I want only you to be free from addiction and love me
Do me a favor and don't make me just be your savior
You're disillusioned into thinking I'm Jesus
When I just satisfy your companionship lust
You say I make you feel better
But when I'm not around
It seems I make things worse
You say I don't of course
To trick me to stay
But you love me in a completely different way
You need to fix yourself from the source
Because I'm worn so thin
And all your healing
has to come
from within
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC
1. I'm sorry for being so quiet the first time we met. Truth is that in my head, I couldn't stop writing poems about your eyes.
[delete]
2. I still dream about your hands.
[delete]
3. I can't stop playing with matches now. I remember how much you loved fire.
[delete]
4. I can still taste you on my lips.
[delete]
5. How could you walk away so easily? You can't tell me it wasn't real. [delete]
6. I love you....do you understand?
[delete]
7. There's a guy in my English class with the same colored eyes as you.
[delete]
8. I've tried loving anyone with your accent. None of them say my name the way you do.
[delete]
9. I can't sleep anymore. I keep waiting for you to wish me goodnight.
[delete]
10. I miss you.
[delete]
11. The moon is full and beautiful tonight and I can't stop thinking of you.
[delete]
12. Will you come count the stars with me?
[delete]
13. Remember when you complimented my poems? I wonder if you knew that they were all about you.
[delete]
14. Are you thinking of me, too?
[delete]
15. You always said you were addicted to me. Tell me, are you going through withdrawals?
[delete]
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
Its an amazing thing,
Recovery is.
It's inspiring,
And strengthening,
But at the same time,
It tears you apart and you go through withdrawals.
But recovery is great,
Because it gets you away from the thing that's been hurting you.
Although,
The hardest,
And most terrible thing about recovery,
Is when you're not sure if you want to recover.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 6:42 PM UTC
Pastel and watercolor works of art
Cover the walls
Makes her think of waterfalls
Peaceful thoughts and memories,
Withdrawals the devil from her mind
Throws her off from the Devils lies
Creating a chapter of freedom
for her to sit in find
Once that chapter is unlocked
Glowing angels,
With perfect complexions
Flying sky high
Silver lighting and the most expensive wine
Sitting on the most extraordinary
Making heaven a sit in and dine
She'll find
thumb prints of pain where erased from her mind...
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 1:07 PM UTC
if i shiver
it's not from the brisk wind
if i twitch
its not from withdrawals
if i flinch
it's not from an abusive step parent
if i stutter
it's not from gynophobia
if i blush
it's not cause i was standing in the sun
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 4:11 PM UTC
Fair-weather front seat
Lookin' at the moonbeams
Solid, sympathizing
The sun on the horizon
Sippin' foreign coffee
Listening to redwood heartbeats
Smoking cigarettes in a black dress
At 430 am, nonetheless.
430 am ocean breeze
Quiet enough to hear a stop sign sneeze
Counting all the bird calls
Staring at the fog walls
Making entities out of mist and light
And thinking about where to crash tonight
Or where to drink-
How arousing is pink?
Pink, plush lips on a long skinny straw
It's amazing how I get anything done at all,
Always thinking about ***
Always thinking about ****
He asked for a smile,
I said, "Whatever you need."
Got some stories I don't care to tell
Got a family I don't know so well
So, which do you trust?
Your love or your lust?
Have no resistance at all
And get kicked around like a rag doll.
My eyes get withdrawals
When I ain't near the stars
My ears and nose start to bleed
When I ain't near the sea
Bi-ped amphibean
Transplant Caribbean
Sittin' here wrongin' wishin
I was belongin'
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 8:43 PM UTC
Like a drug addict
I've gone to rehab and rehab and rehab.
I've relapsed and relapsed and relapsed.
Like a drug addict
I've learned to survive
Without those chemicals mixing signals in my brain.
I've learned that I can get by
Without the nicotine, the alcohol, the **** the *******
I can get by
Without the little spike of adrenaline
I feel when I'm in the same room as them.
Like a drug addict,
I've learned to survive
When you are not in the room
I've learned to get by
without the spike of adrenaline
I feel when you get close enough to touch me
Like a drug addict
I went through withdrawals
Because the doctors say a psychological addiction
Is worse than a physical addiction.
Like a drug addict
My only name is anonymous
Unless it is accompanied by you.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
I see her around the school all the time.
Never did I think that it'd be her touch... just the right one that I need.
We had the same classes, and unknowingly the same life styles.
Her hand brushed mine as we both reached for a book...
Apologizing at the same time we noticed this was the first time we had talked since the eighth grade.
She had bright red cheeks that matched her red hair, with a smile that could power all of New York City.
One touch of our skin and I instantly became addicted.
They should make a Lesbians anonymous, for girls who crave the touch of "her" and have withdrawals when kept from it.
Her green eyes over powered me...
With her I am Superman and those eyes sparkling so bright are my biggest kryptonite.
One gentle brush of her hand against mine was enough to have me begging on my knees for just one more time.
She brushed her hair behind her ear as she sideways grinned and looked down to her feet.
Her glasses reflected me in them... all I seen was my lips against hers and my hands holding hers against the wall as I slowly lost the fight to her kryptonite.
I'm now without her touch and love... but have you noticed... Superman always comes in contact with kryptonite again.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 2:31 PM UTC
I became so addicted to the feeling of nothing
that when I started to feel you
I went through withdrawals.
I wanted so desperately to forget about
the nice feelings that ran through my mind
when I thought of you,
because I became so intimate with being alone
that leaving the vast isolation of myself behind
felt like I was killing the part of me
that taught me how to survive.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
realities are shifting
in and out like sliding doors,
nothing left but the drifting
of my mind through open pores.
I'm sweating love and pain
leaving so quick like it's ashamed
to be a shimmer on my skin.
let the withdrawals begin.
Apr 20, 2010
Apr 20, 2010 at 12:33 PM UTC
This addiction
has the worst withdrawals.
They leave you feeling
completely empty and
alone
until you get
the next hit.
Shaking in anticipation,
preparing for the next fix.
Face forward, inhale.
Hear your heart race through my head.
Pounding anxiously,
waiting.
Finally,
the collision creates a moment of pure ecstasy
in my addict body.
Pressed in close
to confuse your heartbeat
and the motion of your lungs.
The worst withdrawls,
but the best high.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 6:22 PM UTC
you’re like my own personal drug
my drug of choice ranges from
rolling you up like a joint
to snorting you like coke
or shooting you up like ******
and sometimes popping you
like a xanax
to even placing
you on my tongue
like a tab of acid
and when i’m without you
I get horrible withdrawals
i cry myself to sleep sometimes
i have to be with you at all times
or else i’ll go crazy you make me
forget all the bad things you make
me feel something like i’m wanted
i’m addicted to you
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 1:28 PM UTC
Often, when I'm on the
streets, decaying in *****
degradation of the soul,
I go under the bridge and watch
the ducks.
Sometimes I talk to them.
They don't talk back.
Some days, it's the only
beauty I can see.
I think and dream of
a different world.
A land without
brutal lunacy.
I can handle madness.
It's the wicked,
smiling hatred that I
can do without.
The Iowa River beckons
me to come swim-
float blissfully to heaven.
But I know better.
Katie and Perry drowned not
far from where I sat.
It's usually at this time that
I'm fresh out of bread for
the ducks and I have milked the *****
bottle for all it's worth, that a
warm blanket of a thought comes to
me- I need help- go to the hospital.
I stumble my way there,
sometimes by ambulance.
I go through nightmarish withdrawals.
At around the third day, I get a
laptop from the patient library.
I catch up with neglected family
and friends, then I try to write.
The first four days, my mind is
like a smashed snail.
But usually, the magic comes back.
The muse kisses me gently, and I
put the shaking pen to the paper.
I can order whatever food I
want between 6 am and 8 pm.
I discovered years ago that they
have phenomenal cheesecake.
So when I'm able to eat, it's the
first thing I order.
My withdrawals are deadly.
Diastolic blood pressure
numbers like 103,109.113.
So they give me Ativan.
It helps tremendously- Ativan and cheesecake.
**** the muse's **** then more
Ativan and cheesecake.
If I'm lucky, I'll turn out a
poem or two-like this one right now.
Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 10:58 PM UTC
why.
Why does your kiss sting
like a bee?
Or itch like a poison?
It's my addiction.
And darling,
I fear,
I'm going through withdrawals.
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 3:23 AM UTC
i think, that this addiction
has the worst withdrawals
ever
they leave you feeling
completely empty and
alone
until you get
the next hit
pain
is a mental hurdle
thats too high to
jump
so, alone and
empty, you'll
remain
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 7:57 AM UTC