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Ariel Aug 2016
I feel the warmth in my chest and I know I am alive.

Im dead almost 24 hours a day.

My thirst is unimaginable.

My nector is also my drug.

My lungs take it in greedily while my liver cries tears of acid.

It's killing me.

I think’

I down another bottle.

I live in the sweet warmth of my ambrosia.

Diving in the lake of fire.

It burns my insides and my throat.

I down another bottle.

My money is dry as so is my supple.

I do a strange dance for my addiction to be sated.

As the dollar's fall the liquid flows.

The faster the merrier the cheaper I feel until i'm worth no more.

I take a breath for the first time in my life.

I scream for help i'm drowning, i'm drowning

No one helps No one cares

Finally I stop breathing I stop struggling.

I drown
Drinking is an addiction and a drug. It can **** you and it can seem like an ambrosia. Its warmth is alluring and deadly.
Ariel Aug 2016
All my friends are heathens.

We live in sin, we die to spend,

the gold…

Were hopeless, were homeless,

Wandering the roads.

All my friends are heathens

Slaved by gold.

We're gutlessness, were soulless

Filled with woe.

There good men, were bad men.

Filled with greed.

Acknowledge the sin that Lies in me.
Inspired by Falloutboys Heathens suicide squad.
Ariel Aug 2016
Things you create to debate.

Our love could wait.

Made a mistake to be taken,

And left to meet at a wake.


I am dead,

no love,

no tears to shed.

Break the bread,

share and don't dread.

Were slaves meant to be lead.

By our hearts…..


Filled with  greed and desire..

So potent, it turns us into liars.

When things are dire.

You let ourselves consume

And tire,

Of the things that make us human.
Love is selfish and potent. Something that can not be contained and is one of the deadliest sins and the sweetest. Because its so potent. - Latrinity
Ariel Jan 2016
Hypnotic ecstasy,
drowning in a bottle next me.
Dressing my face in my favorite addiction.
Satisfying my vanity with this new composition.
Dressing my face in a false sense of security.
Faking a smile trying to play down my purity.
A girl wise beyond her years.
Just playing dress up for her peers.
I ****** up, I ****** up a lot.
I tip over the bottle and then I got caught.
I got caught in a web I created.
Messed up, left and jaded.
Beyond the point to even care if i'm hated.
I took the stereotype and said "**** IT!"
I killed it.
Ariel Jan 2016
I remember screaming out to the heavens
Asking why?
Looking to the sky for answers.
Drowning myself in my depression.
Not loving myself enough to leave this oppression.
No such thing as happily ever after.
Just another chapter.
A chapter in hell like reality.
Everyone seems to be mad at me.
I guess it was in the strategy.
To turn myself into a walking abnormality.
It's not my fault, I'm just being who I am.
No wants to be friend.
Because everyone's all playing pretend.
Conformity, is my enemy.
No one gets the sensitivity.
Of the subject everyone likes to act doesn't exist.
But it does but I guess it didn’t make the list.
  Jan 2016 Ariel
svdgrl
Somewhere along the long stretching lines
of misogyny and misunderstanding,
******* and child-******* became
false-terms that were accepted by the masses
to describe small exploited human beings,
survivors.
and **** became a title boys and men aspired
to achieve, and not quite directly the
selfish manipulative sociopathic ****
that it really entailed.
Thank you, Curtis Jackson.
In case no one has screamed it enough,
It's January 2016 folks.
Let's place ourselves in some perspective.
The stories are never just one,
but I'm getting angry and I'm fortunate
enough to be able to speak.
I've got privileges that need to be checked,
too.
Let's check off the privilege that I haven't been abducted
or coerced at 12 by he who claimed that I was wise beyond my years,
and plucked out of my family to do his bidding
under the guise of a mature relationship.
He's 26, but all I can see is the fact I could be older
than the other girls. An old soul in a small pre-pubescent body.
Which is what they tell you to make you feel special.
Let's check off the privilege that
I'm not given those funny feeling drugs to help me
cope with pain of losing my "virginity" to a high-rolling old man
who was fond of his size.
Let's check off the privilege
that even if I do manage to escape the slavery that I'm put in,
I'm labeled as a *** and used up and too ****** up to really be better,
by both my family and my peers
You don't have to cover your ears and eyes,
because you think you can't see me.
You think I'm over seas or in some true detective podunk village
in middle America.
You think I'm not in your school-yard or
I wasn't the girl you teased for being pregnant in middle school,
the one that disappeared and never came back.
That I might not be your troubled niece who keeps hanging with the wrong crowd and going to boarding school this summer,
but she runs away from home before she's sent off.
But we keep blaming *** education, welfare and alternative schooling as the bane of our children,
all these ads for awareness and underfunded programs to aid them
are quickly shoveled under the thick heavy expensive rugs of the Kardashians and Wests,
the golden globes and the best dressed,
and those horrendous child beauty pageants.
Let's stop absorbing this filler material that we shovel into our
kids brains,
and maybe teach our little boys what it means to be privileged,
and to protect by learning to respect.
Our little girls how far they can reach if they learn to never second guess their worth.
It begins with us. Let's stop turning a blind-eye and shut ear,
because we fear making a commitment to the belief
that men and women should be equal.
That yes, not all men,
but yes there are women,
and our experience is not the only story that needs to be understood.
And everyone has a privilege that needs to be checked,
but check your own first.
January is human-trafficking and slavery awareness month.
It exists among us, all.
Let's stop being part of the problem and learn how we can help.
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