Addiction

YALL AIN'T GOT A CLUE

YALL AINT GOT A CLUE

 

What the fuck

 Where the Hell am I

  I got to get away from here

 Cause yall fuckin up my high

 I cant look at yall

 Looking at me

,I hope death

 Can set me free

, From all this pain

 I hold inside

,No wonder

 I lost my Goddamn mind,

 Yall dont know shit

 Yall aint got a clue

,Of what I've seen

 Or what the fuck I've been thru

 Yall could eat a dick

 And swallow the nutt

, That shit I'm on

 Aint got no cut

 Yall just think Im lost

 With no lack of hope

 U & ur ole' lady will get turned out

 Fuckin with my dope

 You best beleive it

 Before you get shown,

 You would be ate up too

 If you was on what im on,

 

 this is written for Those people that dont know  "THESE PEOPLE" ( the hypracrits that judge drug addicts and aint never had to step in my our shoes.

 

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tags:

Flirting With The Monster

Folder: 
D. E. A. F.

They told me what I should do,

Just leave that man alone.

He ain't no good never will be,

he'll destroy this happy home.

But I needed him despite all that,

but I didn't love him at all.

He took me high and held me there,

I felt like I was ten feet tall.

But he took me on a spiral,

and I wasn't trying to come down.

He'd drop me from 30,000 feet,

and catch me before I hit the ground.

They always say "Don't let no man control you"

But I found myself addicted.

He had my mind tied up in knots,

without him I was writhing in pain, twisted.

We lived and roamed the streets,

With no money and nothing to eat.

But I didn't care as long as I had my monster

He was the sweetest of treats .

Oh he made me make some bad decisions,

But I just couldn't bring myself to leave.

He coddled me and told me lies,

then he forced me to believe.

He showed me how to let loose,

but then he beat me black and blue.

And though I may be getting tired of the monster,

I can't get away, Cuz' I don't know how to.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem is very subtly refering to a drug (crystal meth) known as the monster. But the drug is personified as a man in a way..... So yeah

Patchwork Herbology

At behest of the man who's drowned in the moat;

he thought well of leaves that could keep him afloat.

So gardeners worked to supplant and suffice

in pale, sullen light that was straining their eyes,

and were able to clot the freshwater vein

with acrid greens that splayed like a lion's mane.

 

The caretaker's jest came sudden and flowing:

these foreign shrubs had a fierce way of growing,

and control was waning and not to be had

by the fearfullest man who couldn't be glad.

So brought the trimmers and the matches and lo,

down came the patchwork garden we'd come to know.

 

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Intoxicating Scars

You can't see them on my hand when i make a fist,

All the designs of the blade dragged across my wrist.

Indentations on my elbow that didn't do much harm,

Twenty-four of them I've counted, and that was just my arm.

 

There is one on my face right under my eye,

So if you were to punch me, brown tears i would cry.

Now my foot is broken and they are on my toes,

Why i have been limping, no one really knows.

 

If i could rearrange them, i could spell my name on my knee.

If i was any more depressed the more cuts there would be.

There are dozens across my tummy from when you called me fat.

They form lines down my back so im a rougher mat.

 

You do not know how many because they are covered by my clothes. 

But if you look close enough you can see some near my nose.

There are times when you curse me and i want to cut deep

but if i do, i'll lay down and never wake from sleep.

 

Sometimes i sit back and wonder how long it will take,

before i solve all my problems with the cuts i make.

My friends want to help me but all i have to say 

is "If you truly wish to help me you will stay out of my way."

 

I hate my life so much i only want to cry,

but do not be mistaken i do not wish to die.

When my problems go away and i feel no pain,

I'll stop cutting my arm cloud, and watching red acid rain.

 

When you give back the key to my happiness, locked behind steel bars;

I will throw away my knife and stop with these intoxicating scars.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a poem I wrote last year about seeking comfort in cutting to avoid depression

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The Cure

Brothers and cousin brothers,
cousin cousins and cousin friends
found boredoms cure in bottle's bottom,
whole families downing medicine,

and then we sought another cure,
and found it in the hydro trees,
or going into town
and stealing cars to tease police,

or, torment a passer by,
they ran, or cried, some flexed,
felt like a teranisaurus rex
in a cage of kids and lambs,

eat them until we're full,
then beat them because we could,
that cure was just as good
as the other medicines,

on sunday noon I woke,
heard a screaming out the window,
saw my brother was the cure
for my other brother's ills,

then my sight cast down the road,
the street was blood and spirits torn,
the cure had made us crazy,
into fucken cannibals.

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I'm Waking Up

Folder: 
Volume Three

I'm waking up.

 

I raise my glass, to this life as I walk that line never knowing if what I'm doing is right.

I had lost my faith and came close to just giving up.

Drove hard and fast as I gambled it all on just my luck.

Left abandoned on this highway of pain, this road of misery

lined with banks and gas stations it is a real slaughterhouse facility.

To the Tar pits for our field trips out on this new Vegas strip.

 

Reach out and strangle someone and when your scared you will always go for that gun.

We allow fear to keep us captive always struggling to find ourselves.

Searching for that reason to keep fighting deep within our own hells

and when that swarm finally does break and you can see the silver lining on the horizon.

Redemption was not cheap, salvation was not easy and one day you will see that sun.

To the pits of hell for our quest to fail, on our dreams we set sail.

 

There is no voice to the words now spoken, saying everything and knowing nothing.

Holding onto the last of the shadows left in the room as the bad taste is still lingering.

Walking around blind, searching for something we lost but will never again find.

It was the past. It was a lesson to teach us to value and to understand the meaning of time.

Nothing will last if we continue our course. The ship will sink and you will drown.

To this day should I survive it any other way, on the wings of hope I would say.

 

On the edge of this cliff, the precipice of our sanity becomes the alter to our suicidal tragedy.

At birth we are conditioned to believe in the lie, that vanity even matters.

Talking a big game but still acts like money trumps a child's laughter.

Where greed and obsession became the cancer eating away at man's heart.

These are just a few addictions to our wicked sins that is tearing our souls apart.

To the energy that never dies, a heart that never lies on the tears of those who never compromised.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just finished this piece up a little bit ago, all new. First poem in a long time where I have not used old writings for refrence or ideas. Part of my muse for this piece came from a dark dark place my opiate addiction infact. However my outcome may play out, this I believe is at least a good sign in my own tirals yet to come. Your thoughts on this title? I think I still have a shred of skill haha :)

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The Opiate Queen **Mature Readers**

Folder: 
Volume Three

The Opiate Queen”

 

 

There is no hope left in this wasteland of death

as wicked men destroy this world in a single breath.

Living in ruin, morally corrupted we bathe in sin.

When the road to hell is paved in gold,

the devil will come and take your soul.

 

I'm starting to get crossfaded,

chasing this addiction I've become jaded.

With never enough I aim to become sedated,

hating the way I perceive, this life to be.

When I am sober, I just want it all to be over.

I am who I am, as I aim to be hated by them.”

 

Chasing the cocaine dreams, of an opiate queen.

Chasing the codeine streams, to wash over me.”

 

When I close my eyes I can feel your touch against my skin.

Distant memories as I hit the bottle once again. “Sink or swim?”

Can there be any hope for tomorrow, when your in constant sorrow?

Finding myself trapped within this jungle of insanity,

a savage wilderness with no chance to flee.

When I look into the glass of perception

I see my soul and every fucking obsession.

Follow me even further down this rabbit hole.

Witness death, riding his pale horse coming for your soul.

 

"I still taste the dreams and in them you only seem to linger,

digging away at the scab with your boney protruding finger.

As you reach into my soul, only to find it an empty hole.

Oh how I beat you to the punch my hooded figure, my grim reaper.

Had sold my soul already and far cheaper."

 

I am chasing the cocaine dreams, of an opiate queen

drowning within the codeine streams, that suffocate me”

 

Everyday, I ask if this will be my last and I struggle to find my way.

Everyday, you devise a new way to screw with my head

and I am starting to realize how little I will be missed when I am dead.

In this universe so vast, the only thing certain is our past.

The pattern behind the veil, to live this life as if it were your last.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just finished up this piece. Not much I can say about this poem, or rather would like to say as once again

(What a surprise) I wrote about one of my habits.

As usual comments and criqtues is welcome here.

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ThoughtShock: A Manifesto Chapter 19

Folder: 
ThoughtShock

Chapter Nineteen

'The mark of a coward'

 

The devil will wait for me on the road of desolation,

at the crossroads of my weakness and obsessions.

Will these words become my final chapters?

As I walk head on into the den of vipers.”

 

           I am still here, still alive and kicking. Down but not out. I still have some fight left in me and a great man would stand and take that beating once again. Only I am no great man, as I just want to lay here until they are finished with their abuse.

Life is a challenge as we confront our demons that tempt us into the free peep shows of sin at the core of our hearts and minds. Even now I can hear her whispering in my ear and even now as my tainted blood pumps through my body I feel her seductive pull that is peace. To become numb, both physically and emotionally.

We live in a world that sucks the very life from you. To survive in a broken shell of a body. Abused by years of bad choices and horrible mistakes and often finding myself repeating many of them. Should be into my prime, when I feel I need a crutch just to manage through the day. Reaching my limit of self centered narcissistic egotistical sadistic people who only see me as some bump in their way. It is disturbing that once regarded friends would only use me for money, cheap labor, or a glorified taxi service and those friends would become ghosts when I would find myself in need of a helping hand.

        The human emotion. A paradox that could drive a person to insanity. When negativity roots itself deep into your soul you are left but with few options and even fewer that look promising. It is in your darkest hour, battling your demons and hordes of beasts that want nothing more then to skin you alive, do you find your worth.

Left alone, and to your vices. Where when even the most extreme outlook can feel like it's your only lifeline. It is not always just about suicide being the worst remedy to depression. Sometimes the most tragic tale of a man's saga to survive is that he simply just gave up.

 

          The worst part is that reflection behind the mirror is truly not my own, rather a junkie hiding in a collapsing shell. That bitch of temptation did her job well. Having me strung out and left for dead on more then one occasion. She believed I was indeed broken, having gave up like my eyes told the world. I had lost everything that was beautiful and was thrown to the darkness to believe the lie that love was dead and gone. All I saw was pain and suffering, lies and assholes. Monsters and ugly beasts living in paradise. There was once a time when I would pray for madness. An escape from the brutality of the darkness. I am no great man, I am but a coward.

 

I feel as if death hovers over my shoulder

just out of eye sight. That eerie sensation

that you are slowly slipping away.

Knowing your losing grip on reality,

why continue to chase the demon?”

 

                        'The fallen shall be slain;

Forever to know pain and to the victors with a kiss. Sealed obedience and hear the whispers down the hall. They speak of how you will fall. Tripped by your own accord, a purchase you could never afford. Now bound by debt, you praise your slavery with regret. Just close your eyes, there goes just another star for you to idolize. When up is down you cannot feel around, how does the honest man survive?

          Face the mirror, face the demon within yourself. Taste the fear and destroy yourself. Sick and tired of circles, the idiots and bigots hypnotized by the sparkles. The meek can't afford to be weak, when the devil is standing at the peek and just think of the havoc he will wreak.

 

So now I stand before the gates, as the fallen have been slain.

My heart now hangs in shame. The honest man dies.

Ask yourself if the heavens cry out in sorrow,

would you feel the tears as they fell from the sky?

Walking with the blind, collectively empty, your soul left behind.'

Author's Notes/Comments: 

ThoughtShock: A Manifesto Chapter 19 'The mark of a coward'

 

There really isint much to say about this piece, Other than it does have a very specail meaning for me, I hope this piece helps a person better understand their own demons..

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ThoughtShock: A Manifesto Chapter 18

Folder: 
ThoughtShock

Chapter Eighteen

'As The Echo Fades'

Part; 3

 

 

They call me insane,
squeeze the trigger and blow out my brain.
Does that make me crazy
I never see it through cause I am to damn lazy.
Lets all dance to the thriller,
label and brand the serial killer.
They call me a psycho
When its just the truth that I know.
I use the obscene for this show
aiming for that shock value,
It sure beats taking out my anger on you.”

 

              When I opened my eyes the room was dark. Hours had gone by as night crept in and a storm was brewing outside. Looking around I noticed my hospital room was empty. I was alone. Where was Lust and Desire? I slowly sat up in the bed. My bruises and broken bones were healed as were the bullet wounds. I sat there in a slight daze as I looked over my own body. My eyes trailed from my arms to the machines that would have been turned on if they had been connected to me. There were even no scars to be found.
The door to my room opened, creaking as it moved ever so slow. I turned my head and watched as a shadowy figure stepped into my room. He stopped just short of the light that came in the window from the moon. “Matthew.” I slowly tilted my head to the side. I knew what to expect by now but what name does this angel of death ride upon? Another doppelganger, just another demon that I will face that should be in my heart and mind not some manifested mutation. 

            Kicking my feet over the side of the bed. I turned facing the creature hiding within the shadows. It did not move, only spoke and in a soft voice. “You are not like the others.” I wanted to laugh at this delusional figure before me but there was something in his voice that caught me off guard. I slowly climbed down from the bed  my feet touched the cool smooth surface of the tiles on the floor. “and I have a feeling, you are not like the others as well.” I said as I tilted my head once again this time trying to focus on the shadows, trying to focus on him.
There was something different about this abomination, I watched as he glided into the moonlight. He did not even need to touch me to feel his presence. As he entered into the light I could see the monster in his true form. “Ego” My voice was weak.

       “So you do know me.” Again his voice was soft as he walked around the foot of the bed. I turned following his movement on just instinct. “What did you do with Lust and Desire” I asked nervously. He stopped in his tracks just short of the window leading outside. Watching the rain splash against the window, he turned his head slowly. I saw the wicked grin from the devil but his smile sent chills down my spine. I swear I even saw his eyes flash before my own. “Oh you don't need to concern yourself with them.” Was all he said as he turned his head back towards the window.
           I griped the railing of my hospital bed tight as I walked towards the foot of the bed, I let go when I ran out of support my entire being was being filled with anger, with fear. “It's hopeless. You know I will kill you before you make a move” He said as he turned around facing me. It was like he was reading my mind, as I just wanted to kill this thing before me.       
Ego raised his left hand up, his long hair went down past his shoulders. He was wearing an expensive suit, with a red tie. He snapped his fingers and at the same time there was a flash of lightening and the crash of thunder when I instantly realized there were two men standing beside me. They quickly grabbed me before I could do anything. I started kicking and struggling as they wrestled me back down onto the bed. Without hesitation they went to town strapping me down to the bed. First they strapped down my hands then my feet and to add insult they pressed down on my shoulders to keep me from struggling.

          Ego walked casually to the side of the bed. He sat down on the edge just next to one of the large guys holding me down. “Are you so delusional that you do not see what is going on here?” He said with a wicked smirk on his face. It took his verbal slap for me to begin putting together a few small details. For instance the large men were wearing white uniforms. These “orderlies” were restraining me as Ego reached into his pocket producing a small pouch. He grinned at me once more as he pulled his neatly folded napkin from his front pocket, unfolding it laying it out over my chest as he leaned in whispering.
I know you are a little slow. So let me help bring you up to speed. You see all of this?” He leaned back up pointing around the room before continuing. “It's of my creation. Everything you have been experiencing” Ego started laughing as he opened the pouch turning it over above the napkin dumping out several small neon green capsules.

        “You see, you are nothing without your ego, or your sin for that matter.” He reached down grabbing a handful of the pills. Holding them in his closed fist as he stared off into space for a moment as if deep in thought. He snapped back as he looked down at me into my eyes I could see the fire burning deep behind them. “But you, you are bound and determined to kill everyone of us, what did you call us?” He paused for a moment. “Abominations.” He burst out laughing again before going quiet and that is when I heard it, he flexed his muscles in his hand causing the capsules to rupture within his closed fist. His laughingly tone suddenly grew very serious when he looked me back in the eyes. “The only abomination is when a Soul refuses to accept it's own nature, that even in the conflict of duality, you need desire.” Using his free hand he grabbed my jaw forcing my mouth open as he held his closed fist above my mouth. Joy emanated from him as a smile formed across his face as he watched the green liquid drip from his fist down into my mouth. I closed my throat but once all the liquid had drained from his hand one of the orderlies quickly let go of my shoulder placing one hand over my mouth the other over my nose.
Suffocate or swallow, this was the choice I was reduced to. Ego was teaching me a lesson that deep down I already knew, only I refused to face. I gave in and swallowed, as before the effects were almost instantaneous. I quickly became lost within myself.

         My pupils contracted to the size of a pinhole. I could feel the chemical rushing my veins. My heart starts beating faster and faster. I shot up from the bed no longer strapped down, my arms were bound around me. I jumped from the bed to the floor, still dizzy from the drugs I lost my balance causing me to fall. I laid there struggling for a few minutes before my eyes begin focusing on my surroundings. I was laying where my doppelganger's dead body should be, but there was no corpse. I sat up leaning against the frame of the bed as I looked down at the straightjacket that bound my arms to my chest.
A few more minutes had passed, as I had managed to climb back into the bed sitting there just staring off into space trying to organize my thoughts. What was real? Did all that happen? I looked around the room once more. It was a different room, it was the same layout only smaller, and the walls were padded. There were no machines in this room, and one small outside window about a foot long and a foot wide.

        “It was all just a nightmare.” I sighed in relief when I heard a familiar voice from behind me. “What was?” I quickly shot around facing the now open door. Standing in the door way a young orderly was holding a clipboard her hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Desire?” I choked out as I tilted my head a bit, still trying my hardest to put together a puzzle that now only seems to fade the more and more I try and focus on it. “What?” She inquired as she walked into the room setting the clipboard on the bed. “How are we feeling this morning sweety?” She asked smiling at me as she began fiddling for her stethoscope. I could not find anything to reply, just stared at her blankly as she went about to checking my heart beat.
“What is your name?” I asked staring up at her, becoming intoxicated by her perfume. She looked at me as if I were playing a game and laughed. “You know my name hon, it's Anna.” Looking down once again at the straightjacket I nodded my head and softly responded “right.” her sensitive demeanor must have picked up on my vibrations as she responded. “You had a pretty nasty breakdown last night, but you will be okay dear I promise”    
I looked up into her eyes and saw a glimmer of hope behind them, as I let out another sigh. “So I am just crazy, guess it makes sense.”

 

I am starting to believe that karma
just might be the desperate mans cling to hope.
Where evidence is abundant to support this thought.
Simply open your eyes and tell me
if the assholes and whores don't get the upper hand.”

          I had sat on my bed for hours now just staring off into space, deep in thought. Remembering now only bits and pieces of what I had only thought transpired. Orderlies had came into my room a few hours ago to remove the straightjacket, saying I was “calmed” down enough that I did not need it, but it I were to have another “outbreak.” They would come back and sedate me putting it back on me. I did not care, my reality had been shattered.
         
It was starting to get late, as I had not moved from my spot on the bed. Plastic spoon in my hand as I played with the food on my tray that someone had brought to me since I refused their offers of going out into the common room. I simply had just wanted it all to end. The lights to my room went out as I looked up towards the door seeing another orderly standing there. “Lights out, bed time.” I heard another orderly shout from the hallway. Looking back down the tray was gone, had been for hours now as I laid down under the covers, on my back. Looking up at the ceiling I closed my eyes.

 

Sanity is overrated, becoming diluted by reality.
Ten second stars who would kill for the vanity.
With all of your twisted dogmas, corrupted morals
we enter into the age where your god is dead,
where every lie is the truth simply cause it's what they said”
 

Words of love, The words of passion
are forgotten on the page of romance.
Sold our souls we took the devil to the dance.
 

So much pain, So much suffering, a life of torment
becomes your prison cell, a living hell, filled with regret.
The misery never fades,
but there will always be the masquerade.”

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

ThoughtShock: A Manifesto chapter 18,
 Last and final part (3) of the short story "As the Echo Fades" and of course this is the rough draft, as it still needs to be cleaned up and polished. However this is the script so far. I am curious to what you think of the ending? or even possibly the whole short story? Hoenstly when I first started working on it, I was not sure of the direction that I wanted to go. However through the chaos of it I feel I delievered on the message buried under the insanity!! Once again I hope you enjoy.

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