Addiction

You May Be Numb But I Am Not


You drink
till you pass out
 and I am left
  to peel the bottle
   from your hand  

You smoke weed
and your body
 is on chill

I take care
of everything
 while your  
  in another land

And really...
my sobriety  
 you don't  
  understand

You take pills
 like candy
  but in the end
   they are
    bitter sweet

You may  
not be able
 to see it
  but  
   you cant
    even function  
     properly

Your  
addictions
 are to
  numb  
   Your pain

But  

In
the
 end

The pain
 has been  
  passed to me

Addicted

Mesmerized by your eyes of steel
    cutting through my soul
Tormented by their painful appeal
    I lose all control

Fascinated by your vicious tongue
    slashing my ev'ry breath
Horrified as you rob each lung
    I grow closer to death

Obsessed by the black hole of your heart
    beating down my dreams
Bewildered as you rip me apart
    I tear at the seams

Addicted to your abusive ways
    shredding away my life
Weakened by your fiery blaze
    I yearn to be your wife

This is not addiction
This is love
Or how else can one explain
A thing without which
Im lost in this hopeless world
I admire your charming beauty
So natural
So unique
I like you wrapped in your favorite white linen
Slim and fashionable
I like your fragrance when you're flamed
Your charm sinks into my brain with every toke
You elevate me mentally
As I sit inside air-tight
Windows and doors shut so I can always have you in sight
Holy smoke rising
As we make passionate love from dusk till the early sun rising
You're a gift to mankind
Fortunately you're all mine
I alone knows the way to your heart
And you know the path to mine
Together we are one strong entity
And we are simply divine

so you think you want to be an addict,you want to wrap up caution and throw it to the wind.dive right in and make yourself at home. hope you can cope well on your own.

trapped between a rock and a hard place,and wait 'till you see your face,cold eyes set in sunken gaze with no trace of emotive
spark,and it's always dark when you enter a room. you bring with you the doom and gloom that clings to your aura.

where one slip can send you plummeting in a downward spiral,clutching wildly at any strands of false hope that might offer some sense of normal.

Until finally, after all the shady deals,the near misses, the Judas kisses, the false starts and the endless line of heavy hearts left in a wake of calamitous notions, you agree to take the potion,that holds you in catatonic suspension.

and that, my friend is very near the bitter end, the end of the line for a one time player , a proverbial slayer bruised and broken from the poisoned spoon that all to soon became your life's blood. a symbiotic parasite.

so sleep tight and don't forget to pack light.there's not much closet space in a cardboard box, and less still in the gutter.

this is a great poem XD.. but i must say its a little more about your signature.. thats effing hilarious.. but still the poem was eye opening for someone like me... addiction is a nasty thing.. especially if its the self inflicting kind..

Used up

used up, burnt out
adrift on synapses.
your brain is pounding.
you try to remember what happened.

everything inside you
just shuts down.
seems like you're wondering
in a cerebral ghost town.

you have an emptiness so complete
with no way to fill it.
lonliness so heavy
no idea how to lift it.

you try to remember last night
but your mind keeps going blank.
you've got a need so intense
with only one releif..crank

you see, its no ordinary monster
its like an octopus squeezing.
intensifying every minute
you refuse to admit its being.

it keeps you up
nonstop tired.
it keeps you going
nonstop wired.

you need more and more
just to get through the day
more and more
just to feel okay.

you've become mesmerized
by the come and go.
fascinated with the dift
and ever speeding flow.

No matter how used up you are,
you'll alwasys want more
the monster will speak to you.
It'll keep knocking at your door.

The Last Time...

Ok... Ok just give it to me!
I said it was the last time!
No Im not sick .. Damn Im fine,

I throw up every morning.
This aint nothin new to me
but secretly Im dying,but
Hey!...nobody knows it but me!

I just need that last hit
its gone really take
all my pain away
Please come on man give it
to me, I dont care what my Aunt
Annie said!
That bitch is crazy...always
runnin around with a bible tryin
ta save me
Shit.... I just need one more hit
I promise.... I swear...
After this I'll be fine
after this hit.....
It will be my last time.

I don't know if this is how you join the competition but i got one.


A deep dark itch.  Causing trouble?  It's omnipresent now.
Developing different ideas could tactfully, introduce other notions. AHEM !
Desire's I can't tame!  Involving options Nouveau and dead.
In constant turmoil.  It's only nexus, abhorring definitive direction.
Completely taken in.  Opting now a dose.  Dare I?
This indecision only negates, a deeper desire, I crave.
I openly now admit dependency.  Developing insane crazy thoughts.
Only now after, decidedly deep introspection, comes the ism.
No addict desires death.  It comes though.  I.  Owe!

Hooked...

Candy man.. Sweet candy man.. A new flavor to please..
Wrapped in your fragrance.. While down on my knees..
Inhaling the failing of white fairy dust..
Digesting the blessing of poisoness lust..
Embraced by the taste of this chemical dream...
Floating while coating the SiCkneSS you breed..

Candy man.. Sweet candy man.. "Oh" sprinkle the love..
Of potion devotion.. I can't get enough...
Intoxicate my mental state. Breathe clarity in vain..
Feed my disease while I render me sane..

Candy man..     Oh candy man..  

Like A Bomb  

Would you  take a chance
to mentally enhance  
laugh with a neighbour
tasty food has no flavour
weak legs take a stance
and suddenly whats hated
becomes what you favour.

Put up a hand
and give five
all thoughts once bland
come alive .

It only works
with the real you
the lows become perks
your nose it does hurt
yellow is new
from the dead blue .
everything's  gleaming
inventing new feelings
put aside people
are now so appealing
you walk the walls
and over the ceilings
all small is tall
and with a big meaning  
the more you fall
the less you feel it
louder they call
but you cannot hear it

Not all is what it seems
imagine your world
without any seams
all you hoped for  
gone in forever
your warm is now
the coldest of weather  .
there is no doubt
you've taken this too far
the black is about
to take out the stars .

All charities have nothing
left to give
and you feel you no longer
want to live.
down goes the solar flare
up rises the lunar glare
no more nice surprises
in a life you made unfair .

Bitter sweet :

Your eyes igniting the burn
In my mind

Embraced by sound
Irritated so much
I cant get enough of you
Your too addicting
For me to handle
Yet i cant live without you
Your just like coffee
To strong or to weak
To sweet
I need more
One sip just isnt enough for me
One kiss so much taste
To little time to waste
One like this
But to bitter
Is to die

Tell me what you think?
Thanks Julie

Baldhead

Baldhead is bigger than me. He’s broken jaws with one punch. I have seen it. He spent fourteen of twenty nine years in prison.
Baldhead wants to break me. He knows there’s nothing I’ll refuse. He’s here and shares his crack for free each day.
I smoke for free and then buy nothing. He sees I am strong. He knows I won’t refuse and he’s persistent.
He comes to smoke and sell. He comes to hide his gun. Baldhead has earned my trust. He uses my house sometimes.
He loses his car so he steals one. He can’t stay at his house while the police are looking. Baldhead can keep this up for months still. He will not change.
His door is broken in. I think he did it. He pulls out three rocks and drops them on the bed. He pretends one is missing so he can search me.
Baldhead is losing his mind.
Baldhead is losing his house. He’s taking over mine. He’s been living here threatening me for two weeks.
He’s convinced I’m sleeping with his girlfriend. He’s been hitting her over it. He’s been hating me, wanting to kill me. He keeps sighting on me with his tech nine. He keeps telling me that he’ll kill me.
He can’t find her. She’s missing.
I can’t sleep when he’s here. I need money not to sleep. I no longer get the drugs for free. I have a kitchen knife hidden under my pillow.
He’s tearing through my laundry. He pulls Laurie’s panties from my dresser, and thinks they are his girlfriend’s. She’s left town with family to hide from him.
He doesn’t know this. I don’t know this.

Baldhead is in my room. Baldhead is finding the knife under my pillow.  
Baldhead is mad now.
He’s saying that I’m hiding her under the bed, hiding her… and her ex-boyfriend.  
He’s pulling the mattress onto the floor. He’s stabbing the box spring with my knife. He’s tearing through my papers. He’s saying he will show me the love note from her. He’s reading a note from my niece.
“Uncle Steve” He thinks it’s from his girlfriend. He continues. “Uncle Steve, I miss you.” He can barely read. “I hope you come to visit us in Vermont again soon.”  
Baldhead has a three foot long masonry drillbit. He’s beating the frame of my iron bed. It’s bending around the hardened steel. He says he’s going to kill me, then he’ll find her.  
Baldhead’s saying this is the last night of my life. He’s saying that I’ll never make it out.
He has the gun. He has my knife. He has the drillbit.  
He’s hitting me across the back of my head. There is a blue-white flash.  
Things are unclear.    
I’m waking up on the floor. He has finished stabbing the bed. He’s thrown aside the box spring. He’s still stabbing the carpet. He’s telling me now they’re hidden in the attic.  
He has the nine now. He’s firing three rounds through the ceiling.  
He’s positioning a chair and breaking the door. He’s sending me into the attic first. I’m climbing up and moving back as his head pops in with the nine, sweeping it in arcs.
He’s setting the knife in, pushing the rest of his body up. He’s stabbing the insulation between beams.
I’ve been bargaining in this attic now for an hour. I’m telling him things I would not tell anyone, things I will not repeat.  
I’m slowly convincing him there’s no one here but us, that the drugs have taken things from us. I’m telling him that we have given up too much, that we have worked too hard to both be this broke, to be sitting in the attic preying upon each other.
We are coming down now, out of the attic.
He sees the blood on my head, matting into my hair and asks if I need a hospital.
I tell him they’ll ask questions, but I’m worried about a concussion, so today I can’t sleep. We both know how this will happen.  
We are at my ATM, but the money I’ve promised isn’t there. I’m making a phone call. I’m borrowing seven hundred dollars from my family. We’re waiting at the Western Union. He’s smoking in the parking lot.  
We’re going to his old house and parking down across the street. We are breaking in through the side door. For half a day we’re smoking there.  
The police are outside and screaming. They’re saying we need to come out, or they’ll come in. I know their guns are drawn already.
I’m hiding the stem under the carpet edge. The crack is mostly smoked but the water is off so we can’t just flush what’s left. We’re stashing the last above a closet door. We’re walking backwards out the front. Our hands are where they can see them. I’m feeling the four pistols pointed at us.
He’s telling them the door was open. He’s telling them we came for his furniture. The crack is coming out my pores as sweat. The stems are stashed.
He’s talking our way out. The police are being lazy.  
We’re back in my car. We’re driving. We’re driving back to my house.
 
I sink into sleep, my first in three days, but wake to find my car is gone.  
I take the bus to work again.
His girlfriend’s back and explains where she was. He’s back in the house. She’s back in the house.    
Everything is almost normal.  
When a new day comes I still have his new trust, but by nightfall he’s in the dryer again, looking for her panties.  

I’m calling again to borrow money.  
I’m renting a truck.  
I’m quitting both jobs.  
I’m leaving the house to Baldhead.  
I’m saving only the parts of my life that will fit.  
I’m leaving this state this afternoon.