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Agatha Prideaux Apr 2020
Liquor bottles and rapt promises
All sometimes mean the same thing for me
At first glance, they seem a little bit too much
To be handled by a mere, innocent minor like me

They say I'm too young to take or drink them
They say only adults can get a taste of them
But of course, I let my curiosity get the best of me
And here I am, sneaking some from the shelf.

Bitter. I unconsciously rejected it
For it was too bitter for me to handle
Manifesto too new, flavour too foul
Sensation incomprehensible, what's yet to come?

I finished half. Half of the bottle.
Internalized half of the emotions thrown
Embedded in between those highfalutin speeches
And I'm only waiting for what's next.

Warmth. It's warm, it's creeping in
Am I letting myself be thawed by their voice?
Or maybe it's just the liquid speaking
As it glides down from my mouth to my throat?

Euphoria. I feel nice. For the first time.
Taking more gulps doesn't feel a bit wrong.
Being succumbed to their words doesn't feel wrong.
It only feels all the more alright.

Tepid. Loaded. Giddy. Fine.
All these are happening all at once
I've been searching for this feeling all my life
WHY HAVE I NOT KNOWN BEFOREHAND!?

I only bought a bottle to try
Only sought a promise to swallow
Is one not enough for my troubled soul?
Is this how much I craved to feel fine?

No matter how many bottles we gulp
No matter how wholeheartedly we trust
When the ethereal high runs out in a bittersweet haze
It's time to clean them all up.

For the empty liquor bottles and empty rapt promises
Will only leave you reeking with its pungent smell
Along with trailing tears on your cheeks
And another throbbing head the next day.
Day 3 of #NaPoWriMo 2020. Funny because the prompt of this one was created months ago---but I only actually wrote it today. Well, I write too many pieces about intoxication.
Nigdaw Jan 2020
******* on a can of beer
I'm sure the answer's in here somewhere
diversion of my mind map
fools illusion, mirage'd secret
a child again
stupidly laughing
at the stupidest of things

I could conquer the universe
just as long as this bubble
remains unburst

my body starts to question though
just how far I'm prepared
to go
beyond the veil
beyond the pale
the edge of insanity
a dance with the devil

crash comes through
outer atmosphere
splashdown
of this spaceship
in a sea of pain and fear
what did I do last night
dare I answer that texted phone
Meera Jan 2020
Sometimes, I feel
that intoxication would burn down my pain
only to find out
that it can reemerge from the ashes
unless it's treated with love
“Sorrow can be alleviated by good sleep, a bath and a glass of wine.” ~ Saint Thomas Aquinas, Italian Dominican Priest, 1225 – 1274,
Empire Nov 2019
poured the poison down my throat
just to numb the pain
the overwhelming pain
and I poured... and poured
take it slow... then a bit braver...
a shot... another...
another.... another...
til my limbs felt loose
the room swayed
and I just... I just felt good
the pain... had melted away
just as I had desired
just as I had craved
and I loved it
every moment
Empire Nov 2019
I;ve done it
escaped
from that ******* hell i''ve been livng in
can't ******* think striaght
but i don;t feel the pain
I can dance and be free
and just not give a ****
hahahahaha I WIN
Intoxication and rock music are a good pair
Kai Aug 2019
Sweet blueberry wine
from across the sea
you brought to me
the lovely night

Where she swayed
and laughed like bells
dancing free around
the shabby kitchen

that first time
we drank drunkly
she on sweet wine
and me on her smile
It's easier to watch sometimes, drinking in their addictive mannerisms than to tell them.
George Buckley Jul 2019
It starts like a spinning top
Hypnotically spirals
Then it swirls
Round like a hurricane

I look into the eye of the storm
It seems to smoulder
Delicate and warm
Yet distant

Unstoppable and yet serene
The vortex drowning my thoughts
Swirling me round
A turbulent sea

But I feel also peaceful
Overcome with serenity
Harmonious music
Drunk on its melody

Does it draw me
Towards rocks or bliss?
This shimmering cocktail
Sweet and heady

Why is everything so hazy?
Is it steam?
Is that a swirling bath?
An aromatic lagoon

Stirred by a gentle hand
Soft skin and porcelain
Inviting me in
Beckoning me in

Does it invite me
Or does the door close?
Leaving me indignant
And alone in the dark

Like a ballerina
Ever faster, ever lighter
Seeming as if to rise
With each revolution

Up and up it goes
Swirling and swirling
Now slower and slower
As it quietly dissipates

It circles now above me
Finned silhouettes overhead
Swimming around and around
I hope they’re not sharks.
4 line 4 line 4 line
TheMystiqueTrail Apr 2019
Twilight is pastel,
grey grief gripping the soul,
wrapping in a pall of thickened mist
with a sickening shade of
mourning brown.

At the horizon,
you wait for the homing birds
to fly on its wings
like a dream glued to my life’s script.

Many times I wondered,
why you come back to this land
where the scary hand of the butcher
scuttles every dream;
where humanity drowns
in its own anguished cries.

The smell of blood is
intoxicating when its grasp
tightens like a noose
on my consciousness.
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