Drug Usage & Addiction Poetry

I was 17 when he came at me
Shoved inside and stole from me
I forgot to eat, forgot to sleep
Most of all forgot to weep

I was 18 when my sister cried
Our mom had left us in the night
Left a note, left us no lifeboat
Most of all, left us with lumps in our throats

I was 19 when the car hit her
Took her away and I screamed and cried for her
I couldn’t walk, I couldn’t talk
Most of all I was just stood in shock

I was 20 when I stole the pills
For the first time I found relief and still
I took more, I took too many
Most of the bottle until my dad found out

Somewhere in there I started to cut
Attack and scar and silently shut
Out the world out my dad
Most of all I shut out myself

And stole more pills

I was…time was lost along the way
The sun melted into the bay
Nothing mattered, it never would
Unless I could have, just one more pill

           
         
she blithely looked out the window          
as the raw day chewed glass          
a cruel sun cast aspersions          
on an already downcast woman          
           
~          
           
scouring the garden for alcohol          
from a party the night before          
with a look of disgust realizing            
there were no discards          
           
~          
           
knowing what lay ahead of her          
she wept inside herself          
then crept to a darkened corner          
in her home searching for a place to hide          
           
~          
           
scathing are the days with no booze          
to chase the edge off already weary bones          
whilst clinging to what sanity she has left          
           
~          
           
opens the cupboard a dusty bottle of scotch found          
salvation in this amber elixir            
           
~          
           
live to be crucified another day           
           
           
           
           

                         


           
                                     
                                     
Dressed as sinner      
hailed as murderer      
of freedom                                      
in liberty                                      
                                     
All black suit                                      
yellow teeth          
carrying black bags            
in deathly stares            
of un-slept eyes   
   
Just a party, really            
wasn't it?              
 "only this once"              
 "fun for tonight"            
Until hell broke                                      
                                     
His royal evil ass              
knocking at                                      
windows and doors                            
a l-i-t-t-l-e                                      
more insistent                                      
more regular                                     
more persistent                                      
than before                                      
was it not?      
     
Seemed a joke, at first. Not so?      
                                     
The good people left your life                
didn't they?                  
They'd slander him, wouldn't they?      
You'd stand up for him, wouldn't you?      
     
Speaking inventive words          
filling his evil                  
with some light;                  
some positive                  
you probably believed initially      
They never came back, did they?      
Of course you didn't notice at the time                         
who would?                                   
                               
There were                                      
bars                                      
parties                                      
visits                                      
the new people                                      
willing participants, weren't there?
 
The bank started hounding, didn't they
People were nagging, weren't they?      
                                          
It spirals, doesn't it?        
Do you think        
we'd be asking questions        
if you hadn't taken that first line?      
Hadn't trusted that                                  
suit                                      
teeth                                      
dead eyes                                      
and his packet?                                      
                                     
Calling judgement now        
aren't you?        
Suspecting us                
with our questions                
of making you steal money at night;      
while your mother cried                
herself to sleep                  
Your wife running                
from her family home               
(all four little mouths, in tow)      
not so?                                      
                                            
I know, you're wishing      
these questions weren't asked       
or we hadn't called      
the suit                    
"a dirty fuck"      
or that I had                 
never penned this
The clock
ticking the seconds
of your life away                                      
                                     
You wish I hadn't                                      
                                     
don't you?                                      
                                     
                                     
-x-                                      
                                     
 

          
           
The jury wants the  
death penalty          
We've got information                    
packed behind          
a murder for hire case          
           
He moves weight          
and the distro          
hit out for coffee          
twenty two          
days ago          
           
There's DNA            
A 9mm seed planted            
in the refrigerator          
Three empty          
coke bags            
hiding in the
underwear drawer          
and a burner          
in his pocket          
           
The evidence
won't hold up a
conviction          
It might make            
the runner sing  
from speculation    
           
The prosecution will call    
that the dead woman          
took files to the grave          
with her wedding ring          
           
Truth be told          
The judge
held the gun          
in the boot of a            
Mercedes and          
           
the kids have waited            
months            
to switch clothes          
and hang a prison guard          
           
I can't hide from myself          
And you can't hide from real life.