Submissions by annieeverlong

A door,
Guarded by the threatening,
Entered by the intrigued,
Only if they qualify.

For their mind isn’t considered,
Only their money,
And age.

Some go to impress,
Others to criticise,
But few to feel.

Feel.
A trapped woman in an immature body,
Their to feel.
Feel the rhythm,
Feel the mood.

Loose a troubled mind for but a mere two hours,
See the world from the view of another.

No.
“You’ll drink”
“You’ll smoke”
“You’ll do drugs”
Only because of my age?


I will tell you...

Love Me.
I crave your touch more than any assurance.
You move like the smoothest of jazz,
The most rhythmic of blues,
I need you.

You are the only drug I need,
The cure to my every ailment,
The encouragement I need.

Where are you?
It seems I’ve lost you.
You comfort me like a blanket in winter,
The calmest of calm.

Why aren’t you here?
I feel as if I’ve been waiting for ages,
I need you more than life!
Oh, my love, where art thou?

Who are you?
I know you so well,
Yet I am hitherto to know you at...

Drug” is a fearful word.
Feared, but addictive?
How can something contradict itself so perfectly?

“Drug” is a misused word.
How can someone use another’s pain to describe something they love?
Why is it used so lightly?

“Drug” is a broad word.
Is it just word for hallucinogenic or addictive, or more?
Aid in escapism or ruiner of lives?

Both?

How is it that we don’t understand the perspective of a drug,
Until we’re on it?
Known are the medical effects of “drug” x,
How about the emotional?

Why is it a joke when...

Maybe that night wouldn’t have come so suddenly if the vibrations of failure hadn’t come so soon;
         And maybe what I only remember as a blur of colour and poor lighting was more meaningful than I thought;
                           Maybe I wouldn’t be looked at with such caution by the ones I used to call my loved;
                                                                        And maybe I’d be trusted more
                                                                                        By everyone
                                                   ...

The bay’s endless tides ring out in his ears,
As he gazes out into the distance from his balcony,
For the morn has come,
Despite the fear that comes with it.

For he has prepared for yet another lonely cycle of hours,
As he awaits a life where this cycle is broken,
For when the day comes,
He doesn’t have to gaze anymore.