Drugs Poems by New Members

My pen remains drunken yet does not stumble
A functioning lifeaholic somehow agressively humble
Mixed drink of choice reality with a shot of enlightenment
Often it speaks through unslurred words it seeks out excitement
Exposure to these street games but it holds its composure
Still unsure it may be claimed so searching for closure
Ability to regret lost somewhere within the ink
It cant even object no matter how strong the drink
It has multiple epiphanies
Like instruments in a symphony
A rejoice that will not be muzzled
Choices that leave...

So much Shit
Don't wanna sort through it
Not today
Not tomorrow
Or the day after that

Just 1 hit
JUST FOR THE FUCK OF IT
JUST FOR TODAY
i'll quit tomorrow and then never look back

And I don't know
What I declare
It's UNjust
It's NOT RIGHT
It's NOT FAIR

And I Don't Know
I Don't D.A.R.E
Abuse drugs?
Well WHY NOT i DON'T CARE

I got Some Drugs In ME
I GOT Them Drugs IN ME
I GOT SOME DRUGS ON ME TOO
TELL ME WHAT YOU WANNA DO

Today I went to your house.
the whole house was quiet as a mouse.
You asked me to go get your dope.
unwilling I did it but to me your addiction is a joke.
As I open your door to bring your posion
your welcome greeting was darted at my head a plate of food thrown instead of welcome home. You yelled called me a fucking cunt.said I woke u up and was a fucking whore give me my dope and there's the door.i threw it at you along with your smokes I tried to leave and you dared me to try you said I would watch u get high then watch as you overdose and die. I am confused at...

No. Not weed. My lungs are sore and gorged.
No, we drank all of the beer last night.
But I have sour mix. I could make drinks.
Look up if the liquor store is open.
I’m full. I’m sick. It’s much too late and I
Am tired and this feels surreal already.
Oh god, don’t even think about an upper.
I am too tired. My head hurts. We should
Fuck, maybe it will help my headache.
But first just let me wash my hands. Oh,
Come now. Please, don’t take this out on me.
Where will you go? The house feels large and empty.
It’s almost April. Outside it’s...

I still remember how it felt.
Waking up. Shaking. Soaked in sweat.
I still remember how it felt.
To start the day by getting drunk.
To me it was like coffee.
I still remember how it felt.
To eat zonoct like it was breakfast.
Actually, it was my breakfast.
I still remember the joy,
When the drugs kicked.
Oh it made me happy.
So happy it kept me in it for years.
I couldn’t get by sober.
I could go for days,
Only by drugs and alcohol.
I wonder how I’m still breathing?
Though it feels like I’m only...