# addiction #hurt #betrayal # disappointment# life # heart # truth # suffering # sadness # pain # happiness # empty # mistakes # fate # time # difference # madness # theone # learninglove #dreams # poetry # longing #prison # chained # renewal # survivo



With this needle in my vein,

I once escaped the hurt and pain.

But now none of it goes away,

It's no longer just a game I play.

My body & mind can't go without,

I'm addicted there is no doubt.

Seeing the truth was the easy part,

But recovery can't be bought at Wal-Mart.

It's the one thing I can't seem to get,

Making it seem like I don't give a shit.

Yet, that isn't it, no not at all,

Sobriety seems to be my brick wall.

I try and I try time and again,

But this battle I can't seem to win.

One shot at a time I've gone insane,

Hearing the whistle of my death train.

Day by day I slip further away,

Losing my grip try what I may.

Not able to ask or talk about,

Losing all hope of finding a way out.

Day and night watching my world fall apart,

Not knowing the end, lost from the start.

Wishing there was a way to forget,

All that I've done, all of this shit.

Every mistake each fix and call,

Each shot and every wasted 8-ball.

Dying inside as I wait for the end,

Wondering, will this needle be my only friend.

August 26, 2011

Miranda Jo Mitchell


Author's Notes/Comments: 

please post any comments you have for me thanls



You talk a lot about drugs, men, and green.
You always tell yourself that you wanna be lean.
You look at yourself as a failure.
You find it hard to see your future
Your so young and I don't want to see you fail.
Your heart is to warm, not cold and frail.
You don't listen to me though, you don't listen to yourself.
You loathe in your thoughts all by your selfish self.
Sadly, you is me.
I will always a losing game. 


He told me to pour my love into him, let him have some of the passion I have.. So I poured and I never stopped pouring for 2 years straight, yet at the end of those two years he proceeded to ask my why I am so empty. 

My mother told me to put my all into my school work. I didn't have time for myself for the fear of not making her happy. So I studied and studied and studied, yet at the end of that year she proceeded to ask my why I never have time for my family or my friends. 

My grandfather told me to have a family. I had my son, I love him more than life it's self. My grandfather proceeded to ask my why I made the choices I made, when little did he know that my son saved me. 

Society tells me to be pretty. So I put on makeup, fake eyelashes, eyeliner, highlight and contour, lipstick, anything to cover up what isn't good enough for them. Yet they proceed to call me fake. 

I told myself to be perfect. I done all the things I thought would make everyone think that I am "perfect". Yet I proceed to tell myself that I will never be good enough for anyone... Not even for myself.


I held him, sometimes while he laughed and others while he cried, regardless I held him. 

I held the weight of him loving another woman on my shoulders, I never dropped it.

I hold him, no longer in my arms but in a place far more special, my heart. 

He holds her, sometimes while she laughs and others while she cries, regardless he holds her.. 


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Feeling a little down tonight. Always nice to but my emotion into a poem. Hope you enjoy ❤️

Mine's, Your's, Our's

I saw them - the sky so bright at this night,

I saw you - enjoying your life where yourself resides,

I saw me - when everything is alright,

I'm seeing others - where the people gathers.

Festive runs, when everything's nouns,

Gathering is fun, when everyone's bounds,

Likewise oldies, from their teens,

Sleep-walking, nor chasing their dreams.

Throughout the time, we are getting blinded,

Throughout the prime, everything's side-tracked,

Loving, owning of what we could,

Before our inch turning cold.

Love people, whom loving so much,

For those who could,

Write people, whom writing this much,

For those who could,

Before our inch turning cold,

Before our inch turning to ashes,

Before our inch regarded as trashes,

Before our memoirs turning into silly jokes,

Before our efforts and voices turning into some rusted old bones.


p/s: Happy Chinese New Year





Anytime you are in trouble,


losing a life once so happy,


whose time passes by with pain


and the world hurts deep inside


you will see me standing here


side by side with you forever


Author's Notes/Comments: 

A short love poem


How can you still doubt me?

What more can I do?

I rode a lightning bolt

Though a hurricane,

Just to be with you.

I defeated the biggest army.

The rich call out for my name

You're candy for my eyes.

Perfume for my nose.

Suger for my lips.

You'll come with me !

 How wonderful.

Life is surely bliss.

American Beauty

My melancholy love is slowly dying.

He tells me he loves life.

Deep down, he is lying.

He tells me he will make things right.

However, sadly he is not trying.


My melancholy love is crying.

He tells me he is all right.

Deep down, his aching heart is sighing.

He says he can take on any fight.

However, sadly, his tears are not drying.


My melancholy love is hurting.

He tells me not to worry.

Deep down, his mind is spurting.

He says he will never stop flirting.

However, sadly, his life runs out in a hurry.


My melancholy love is dressed in black.

His body is cold as a frozen hatch.

Deep down, I did not want him to rest.

 He would say his life
was a wreck.

However, sadly, life was not his best catch.


My melancholy love will always be loved.

He would tell me he was not mad.

Deep down, I had no idea he was sad.

My melancholy love, thank you for all you have given to me.


You are the American Beauty.

Eye for eye.

Your the one that made me cry.

Your the one that told me lies.


You made me happy, like I was the one.

You made me love, because you were the one.

but then you took out the knife.

You push me, pull me, beat me, kick me.

You tell me sorry that you beat me.


Your the one who made me cry.

Your the one that told me lies.


You took the blade to my neck.

You tell me that I am worthless.

You told me that I'm unloveable.

You tell me sorry after you hurt me.


Your the one that made me cry.

Your the one that told me lies.


You slice my neck like it is butter.

You left lying on the floor.

Your the one that slamed the door.


Your the one that made me cry.

Your the one that told me lies.


Years have pass.

The news flys fast.

Your hand cuffed behined your back.

A tear slips out.

You cry for help.


Their the ones who made you cry.

Their the one who told you lise.


They beat you.

They hurt you.

They now take your place.

You take my place.

You beg, and plead and ask them why.

All they say is eye for eye.