Poetry competition CLOSED 15th September 2020 7:17am
WINNER
Calamityofgin
View Profile Poems by Calamityofgin
sheild
RUNNERS-UP: MalcolmJThePoet and Kaden_Malis

Go to page:

aftermath of addiction

clairethepoet
Strange Creature
United States
Joined 20th June 2020
Forum Posts: 2

Poetry Contest

write a poem about you or anyone you know who has lost something to addiction

clairethepoet
Strange Creature
United States
Joined 20th June 2020
Forum Posts: 2

addiction

trapped in a room in my mind
dark and dank
all alone begging for a break
the cold sweats begin
withdrawals have come
to curse your soul
and bring you disgust
disgust towards yourself
in your very existence
dreading everyday you have to live in
so when the doctor asks me
how are you doing?
I plaster on a smile and say what they want to hear
in fear of more rehab, institutions and treatment
I fear being honest even in my own head
every night in bed praying for strength
I do admit i am running short and I feel blank
The drugs gave me solace
and all the warmth I never had
sobriety a foreign concept
one that made me sick to think of
how wonderful the blow was it made me feel
like I was a genius
how wonderful the pills calmed my nightmares
how wonderful the herione hugged me in a way no one else could
despite it all nowadays i have to look forward
away from my addict mind
It is hard and painful most days
But never in my life have i been closer to myself
Written by clairethepoet
Go To Page  

Kaden_Malis
Kaden Malis
Fire of Insight
United States 5awards
Joined 2nd July 2020
Forum Posts: 23

My lost weekend

A lost day here
A lost day there
It didn't bother me
I didn't care

The days started adding up
But I still drank from the cup
My lost weekend
Got lost with the passing days

I woke up and didn't know
Where I was or where to go
The man in the mirror
Was someone I didn't know

It was my worst fear
Mind stripped of it's gears
I'd been in a walking coma
The lost weekend had turned to years
Written by Kaden_Malis (Kaden Malis)
Go To Page  

drone
Tyrant of Words
Greece 10awards
Joined 3rd Sep 2011
Forum Posts: 2273

A lost day here
A lost day there
It didn't bother me
I didn't care

The days started adding up
But I still drank from the cup
My lost weekend
Got lost with the passing days

I woke up and didn't know
Where I was or where to go
The man in the mirror
Was someone I didn't know

It was my worst fear
Mind stripped of it's gears
I'd been in a walking coma
The lost weekend had turned to years
Written by Kaden_Malis (Kaden Malis)

MAN These words sent a chill
down my spine  
I haven't thought about
what I used to be
for a long time

This is one of the best sayings I've read




Valeriyabeyond
Dhyana
Dangerous Mind
3awards
Joined 3rd May 2020
Forum Posts: 2668

In The Shallow Depths I Sink

My eyeslids turned down,
away from the days light,
unseeing 
provides no safe harbor.
Carved into the shadows
of suffering Dahlia,  an
 image of self loathing
struggles, to break free
of the tangled vine, the liquid
 carnage it drowns in.

I stand before the moon,
with nothing to offer.
Hands clenched  I hold tight
my desires for the drug- laced
days of complacency.
Its warmth I have
known. I call my own 

Her eyes like bloodstone
turn away  from the fools
 gold blown in by shifting
winds 
Like glitter, it sticks on her lip
She laughs, as sounds
of a grieving dove spill
from her mouth

I have fallen, my ankles sink,
my limbs bare lying prostrate  submerged in grief
I surrender I reflect, I receive,
 I heal


Written by Valeriyabeyond (Dhyana)
Go To Page  

mysteriouslady
Tyrant of Words
United States 15awards
Joined 11th Aug 2012
Forum Posts: 2586

Me

myself
thats what I lost
Im still lost
can anyone see me?
can anyone help me?
Ill come to you
you know what to do
bring lots of drugs
and Im yours
to kill myself all over again....

eswaller
Dangerous Mind
United States 31awards
Joined 22nd Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 760

Losing Everything to Addiction

Pills and potions could never fix
The unfixable. I was looking into
Your bloodshot eyes and realized
That I was losing you to the pain

You were trying to hide. You mix
And stir everything up. You drew
Me in, but you always despised
My sunshine and smiles. The rain

And cloudy skies were becoming
Too pitch black and ominous for
A twisted soul like yours to deal
With. You turned to your demons

Instead. They take the incoming
Light somewhere else. The floor
Becomes your home as you feel
The weight of the bottle. Seasons

Change, but you see a quick flash
Of your future in the grave alone
As you lost everything in the fire
Including love and light you once

Cherished. You wanted to clash
Over everything. I have shown
You every time the strong desire
To love yourself despite months

Of uncertainty should outweigh
Your yearning to drink yourself
Into oblivion. You chose living
With addiction instead of trying

To live soberly. You never pray
For grace or for filling your shelf
With good memories. Forgiving
Yourself is never easy, but dying

Should never be in the forefront
Of your mind. You lost the sun
While you were looking for any
And every ounce of darkness.

I can see through the cold front
As you are not fooling anyone,
Not even yourself. You lost many
People and your bleak starkness.

So do not blame me for whatever
You lost as you keep struggling
To stay afloat. You pulled the lever
On the war you gave up battling.
Written by eswaller
Go To Page  

anvinvil
Anvillan
Fire of Insight
United States 2awards
Joined 16th Feb 2020
Forum Posts: 90

Imploded....

 
I stand on the sidewalk, a deafening blast
and a building I visited and worked in
just imploded . Destruction of a landmark
always there, diminishes us all. Now just
a pile of rubble, to be recycled or worse.

Ray and I grew up together. school,, sports,
dances, dates and the introduction to alcohol.
We thought it cool to by beer and drink our
way to unconsciousness. The difference was
that I grew up, Ray didn’t.

Ray got into sales, parties, after hours drinks,
transitioned from beer to hard liquor. He started
drinking before calls, got caught and dismissed.
That left him all day to drown his sorrows. He
became depressed and turned to drugs. Pills,
at first then ventured into the needle. He
became homeless and became a sleeper
on friends couches. That didn’t last and he
ended up on park benches.

They found him in a doorway across from
the imploded building. The remains of
what used to be.
Written by anvinvil (Anvillan)
Go To Page  

Henry_Hershel
Henry Herschel
Strange Creature
United Kingdom
Joined 10th Aug 2020
Forum Posts: 1

Twenty Something

I wish that I could remember
The time of someone’s life that wasn’t mine
Claim accomplishment, technicolour
Fame and laughter, heights I’d climb

I was so very great, I must have been
To accumulate so much
That I forgot it all
Pitch and toss, bottle fall

A photograph to whom it may concern
It added up to snow in summer sun
Said and done, nothing at all
From glass to bottle learn and turn

I to whom or what was that aye
Drowned, awash did not die
No rock salvation moored
Redemption and lime I poured

Lost and gone, love and time
Yesterday, tomorrow black not grey
Sorrows stain not washed away
I’ve borrowed what is mine

My laments’ debt not paid

Regret the dance away I fade
Before and now they turned around

Future not past I drowned
Written by Henry_Hershel (Henry Herschel)
Go To Page  

poet Anonymous

Related submission no longer exists.

Calamityofgin
Fire of Insight
United States 5awards
Joined 10th May 2020
Forum Posts: 149

On walls of some homes

I had cried out for home    
In the midst of all out wreckage  
An onslaught of bad days    
Bad people    
Bad things to do    
To good people    
To feed a bad habit    
   
There lay my bad seed soul on the filthy carpet    
I had rolled on it    
I had taken a nap on it    
And the polyester fibers    
Had attached themselves to my brain    
The pseudo soft mesh of red dirty    
twisted into grey matter    
   
And I cried out for home    
God I believe    
And no words for him    
Aside from that thing    
In my tummy    
Wrenching that I needed him    
   
And to the alleys again    
Once more in the morning after    
I pulled myself up    
Sticky faced    
And mouth curved an OG grin    
With hip walk down lick street    
My lean serious    
My intent Ill    
The illest    
   
Then behind me sirens spin    
‘‘Twas the cop    
From the night before    
Or, the night of    
Whenever    
Or the day I    
And I probably did    
I don’t remember    
   
But he was sure of it    
And my wrists were soon tight with steel    
Key lock    
And pale faced feeling    
Drained to my knees the rest of me    
Slid into seat    
Customary head tuck    
And to county jail    
   
Booked in    
Fucked up    
Off grin    
I had been too tired    
To argue much that stripes and numbers were not my color    
   
I was going to stay a while    
A little vaca a go go    
Hell no you can’t leave    
But    
At last a place to really sleep    
And eat    
(Insert here any form of gelatinous ooze)    
   
And just to break the serious monotonous    
Time......    
....................(you cannot imagine what whir lies between those kind of) ........ticks....    
   
I found my hustle    
 
For a beautifully    
Artfully    
Passionately rendered Madonna and child I did for a stud broad    
She traded me three e gig filters    
(I shoved up my asshole)    
Aughhh...    
“nicotine baby, hadn’t seen you in a while.”    
   
And I considered this    
And I asked why    
She had fortuned my rectum with this wealth    
   
A big woman they called Squirrel    
Who had sported stripes on the daily    
And would be for 15 plus more years    
Said to me    
“Because I need to make these grey walls home.”    
She stuck up the Madonna    
With toothpaste and spit    
And sat down to pray    
   
And here’s the thing    
About God    
And    
About stud broads called Squirrel    
Both have quite the surprising answers    
To questions    
You ask    
Or prayers you did not know you’d cried out    
   
Prayers like    
I want to go home    
 
And big bad women    
With our lady of perpetual hope    
Lightening the dark of their eye    
Show you how to make it    
 
Written by Calamityofgin
Go To Page  

MalcolmJThePoet
Thought Provoker
United States 1awards
Joined 30th Sep 2014
Forum Posts: 72

My Pen Is My Needle

I pour out my soul
My soul bleed
From my pen leak ink
Like a needle to my veins
My pen is my needle
My poetry is my high

My emotions is my words
I leave bloodstains on my page
I let go of so much pain
My heart is full of rain
I flood my pillow with tears

My pen is my needle to my veins
I get high off my feelings
I give it all I got
I leave it all on the line
Never looking back
My past is my addiction
So im addicted to pain
And my pain is my dope
To cope with the agony
Of being left alone
The home is vacant
I cannot find my peace
Because love doesn't live here
My pen is my needle
To get high

Written by MalcolmJThePoet
Go To Page  

faithmairee
Faith Elizabeth Brigham
Tyrant of Words
United States 12awards
Joined 29th Aug 2012
Forum Posts: 210

Addiction Is A Cruel Mistress (Twisted Sister, Evil Twin)

Addiction Is a cruel mistress    
robbing you of your freedom      
and choice      
warping your desires      
turning you into a liar      
before you even notice      
she's thrown you into the fire      
      
Addiction is a twisted sister      
telling you the big lie      
everything's alright      
you aren't hurting anyone      
until she removes your loved ones      
from you one by one      
your job is next just like your home      
until you find you're all alone      
     
Addiction is an evil twin  
who tells you that you could  
walk away so easily but she's a tease      
satan's slut who takes you through      
hell's gates then slams them in your face      
She patiently awaits your fall     
laughing as she watches you crawl then hit the wall      
damn those demons straight to hell
Written by faithmairee (Faith Elizabeth Brigham)
Go To Page  

slipalong
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 41awards
Joined 1st Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 842

Falling Man

The art of gravity defined
for some on life that teniuos grip
the loss of faith  
the backwards  into unknown place  
 
the mountineer that scales the face
the risk they take
the footholds on reality  
quakes in our minds vibrate
 
life flash before your eyes
a hotizontal scream
a flailing mind  
the top of life you left behind
 
for gravity as Newtons laws relate
centers us keeps us straight
but concequence can override
to trip and fall and downward fly

the arch that could be the last goodbye you screamed
impact your "whatever" future disappears
and hopes you had the safety rope
suspended time to clutch and grope
 
 the falcons dive upon the mouse  
to grasp at straws the world snatched back
to know that it was all just faff
for you were wrecked before the crash
 
a crucifix on a silver chain
was heaven waiting for your broken remains
the purgatory rebuild you to walk again
sent you back to break addiction's chain
Written by slipalong
Go To Page  

Darkpoetria
DarkOakPoetry
Twisted Dreamer
United States 1awards
Joined 22nd Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 18

Sickened love

 He is, my greatest and only habitual addiction, but I am not his....
​He voyages on the whims of sins shaken from the Devil's hooves.
​My cries mistaken for rain on this fogged and
befriended window yet again. It shares of its cracks and
​breaking that mimic the fragments of my once whole heart.
My beautiful youth shown in this window's reflection
​many years. An older more regretful
​face reflects in reply this evening, as I wait to see ​the dust clouds that trails behind his return when home is remembered.

And there he is once again.

Everything I love, in one body, in one exhale of relief, returning to
​the surviving fool. I, the dependent one that keeps
comfort and necessity near and this mirage of marriage, married. I am the wife that wears the ring, sporting the jester's hat.
Vowed in chains that wraps
​its strength around my blackened finger. He will never let me leave.... and I have not​ the will to abandon him as he does me.

​I have found love within misery and
​abandonment within need.... I hold on to what
days belong to me and nights when my
​hands find not emptiness, but loves fond requests
​from the purse of absence, I give in to hope.
I serve him my pleading words on a mirrored platter, he consumes as he does and
spits out another lie between his saddening sorries of meant words and family photos.
My sickened love is my own enemy and
my physical heart must find death to part from this everything of mine.
My frailty and fight lives to lose
another day. And I ? I will allow it to do so within my own twisted familiarity of love gone sour.
May death part us and my love restored to its proper, no matter the introduction. And still, I have yet to see, ​in fear of its depth, if for me, such a hope is even possible...
Written by Darkpoetria (DarkOakPoetry)
Go To Page  

Go to page:
Go to: