Submissions by girljunk
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
easy is the descent into hell.
DRUGS POEM
Published
11th Apr 2014 2:55am
11th Apr 2014 2:55am
my veins are sick
dopesick, I am tangling
bedsheets,
withdrawing;
icy sweat drying on
my skin
like so many
memories of you.
{…and still I sweat
icicles.}
bedsheets,
withdrawing;
icy sweat drying on
my skin
like so many
memories of you.
{…and still I sweat
icicles.}
844 reads
3 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
11th Apr 2014 2:53am
11th Apr 2014 2:53am
sweaty sheets
my bed smells of
sweat, sickness,
and sex.
I don’t bother to change the
sheets
until you come around again
for the next fuck.
sweat, sickness,
and sex.
I don’t bother to change the
sheets
until you come around again
for the next fuck.
967 reads
1 Comment
DRUGS POEM
Published
10th Apr 2014 6:48pm
10th Apr 2014 6:48pm
clean junkie
hopeless/dopeless:
I need heroin;
cause getting clean
cleaned me out - every organ;
& left me gutted and hollow.
my arms are lonely,
missing their best friends:
heroin & syringes.
that sweet euphoric fire
in my veins
was the closest anything
ever got to me.
I need heroin;
cause getting clean
cleaned me out - every organ;
& left me gutted and hollow.
my arms are lonely,
missing their best friends:
heroin & syringes.
that sweet euphoric fire
in my veins
was the closest anything
ever got to me.
896 reads
5 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
10th Apr 2014 6:45pm
10th Apr 2014 6:45pm
to love is to destroy
I cannot apologise for
being on top;
and seeing you
down on your knees.
you may love me.
I will certainly destroy you.
being on top;
and seeing you
down on your knees.
you may love me.
I will certainly destroy you.
958 reads
0 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
27th Mar 2013 1:54pm
27th Mar 2013 1:54pm
baby junkie
I used to be young,
but never innocent.
I was a kid: skinny and wild.
just a baby! not even born,
just a fetus.
I remember my first needle.
it looked shiny and silver;
kinda like glitter.
I copied my family.
it was easy:
like a piece of [birthday] cake
(before it turns stale
and moldy and grey)
11 years old, doing dope,
doing boys
(their souls made of cash)
I skipped most of 6th grade.
I didn't do homework.
I didn't see the point
all I was good at
was shooting up dope.
but never innocent.
I was a kid: skinny and wild.
just a baby! not even born,
just a fetus.
I remember my first needle.
it looked shiny and silver;
kinda like glitter.
I copied my family.
it was easy:
like a piece of [birthday] cake
(before it turns stale
and moldy and grey)
11 years old, doing dope,
doing boys
(their souls made of cash)
I skipped most of 6th grade.
I didn't do homework.
I didn't see the point
all I was good at
was shooting up dope.
871 reads
2 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
19th Mar 2013 4:50am
19th Mar 2013 4:50am
needle in my veins, in my bed
junkies don't flirt with danger,
we fuck the grim reaper.
boy is a one night stand that
I can't - won't - kick.
the only thing I could ever have feelings for:
love when I got it;
hate when I don't.
that delicious fire
sends me to my knees
and I am left wanting
more.
slam it! rush, numb, ecstasy.
I'm nodding hard and before
I fall out, I hear:
"baby, come back to bed."
we fuck the grim reaper.
boy is a one night stand that
I can't - won't - kick.
the only thing I could ever have feelings for:
love when I got it;
hate when I don't.
that delicious fire
sends me to my knees
and I am left wanting
more.
slam it! rush, numb, ecstasy.
I'm nodding hard and before
I fall out, I hear:
"baby, come back to bed."
1701 reads
5 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
8th Mar 2013 10:22pm
8th Mar 2013 10:22pm
fallen angels are really demons
We have the madness in our veins
even when we're clean.
After the track marks fade,
the fear creeps in.
Knowing we could instantly go up
in flames;
turn into an explosion
that destroys
everyone we love.
So we stay spun,
high, nodding out.
We only want to
hurt ourselves,
not anyone else.
Self-destruction is a fucking lie,
but we keep
hoping;
shooting up,
smoking,
pupils full black or pin pricks.
In our rotted hearts and brains,
we know:
forgiveness isn't given
to monsters.
even when we're clean.
After the track marks fade,
the fear creeps in.
Knowing we could instantly go up
in flames;
turn into an explosion
that destroys
everyone we love.
So we stay spun,
high, nodding out.
We only want to
hurt ourselves,
not anyone else.
Self-destruction is a fucking lie,
but we keep
hoping;
shooting up,
smoking,
pupils full black or pin pricks.
In our rotted hearts and brains,
we know:
forgiveness isn't given
to monsters.
856 reads
1 Comment
DRUGS POEM
Published
7th Mar 2013 5:31pm
7th Mar 2013 5:31pm
she will burn the whole world down
Once again, there is a battle in my head,
so many faceless, exhausted soldiers trapped in my skull.
It never feels quiet, or still;
the heavy anxiety of
yet another battle is always lurking.
"The fighting continues until it is finished,
you pathetic girl!
Don't you know anything about sacrifices
and a personal call to duty?"
"I do," I choke.
I am the offspring of violence
and chaos,
but even I can't tolerate this war
as it hacks apart my brain excruciatingly
through the middle.
The pain sends...
so many faceless, exhausted soldiers trapped in my skull.
It never feels quiet, or still;
the heavy anxiety of
yet another battle is always lurking.
"The fighting continues until it is finished,
you pathetic girl!
Don't you know anything about sacrifices
and a personal call to duty?"
"I do," I choke.
I am the offspring of violence
and chaos,
but even I can't tolerate this war
as it hacks apart my brain excruciatingly
through the middle.
The pain sends...
927 reads
5 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
7th Mar 2013 8:44am
7th Mar 2013 8:44am
well played, you clever bastard
999 reads
9 Comments
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