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I don’t even know where to begin My whole world has collapsed I feel like an unwanted sin How do you tell someone you’ve relapsed? The pain I see in my friend’s eye The immense guilt she feels crushes me
Larger, wine, port and spirits, Porter, stout, dark mild, real ale and rum, Cider - strong of course, whiskey with no ice in it, Baileys, sherry, moonshine, however it comes,
Tell me again oh father of mine, Sob and howl repeat "she's died!" Your twin sister that died in babyhood, Manipulating us, feel the pity that you think we should,
There's a party, Everybody is lit, Drinking and Smoking, Posting pics with their new outfits. Party in a mansion, Tables turning with red cups, My team need a coupple hook-ups,
If I hide behind the curtin, I can put less work in, People see my curtin and think I'm perfect, not knowing my friends and I drink, partying it up, drinking with people in sync,
He downs another beer, His twelfth one tonight. I watch him.
Forget Me Not *controversial* Morning sickness brings the blues, Monthly cycle is overdue. She was drunk that night, Flinging morals in the wind,
Rough day, I see That's ok, come sit with me!
The dark and lonely atmosphere filled the air
Because it is vulnerable, an option, you might see. Wide out in the open, entire visibility.
Kindness, is it only but a word? A person who hears people's needs. But oddly, sadly, is never ever heard.
You try your best to see the light. In a blinding sheet of darkness. You ignore and try to forget.
I'm a message in a bottle waiting to be read.
What I Hate Do you know what I absolutely hate? What makes me so sick to my stomach? And my skin crawl with repulsion? I’ll tell you what I hate:
Another day, another way,
Outside It seems as if she’s fine Beautifully beautiful in every way shape and form Her smile lights up the world as if god turned on the heavens Well at least when she shows it
I down another bottle To wash the pain away. For a brief moment, I feel a bit okay.
Life's a party, One you can never leave. So live it up, break it down, and never regret anything you do. Because in the end, it makes you who you are.
Tony. The name on a pizza but That wasn’t your name. It’s just what people called you when you held Slimy beers in your hand When you had a pipe and some Green leaves, white powder,
Feelin’ Uneasy "I hate you!" I'd scream at my parents as a kid with little knowledge of the meaning Hate: a word so harsh many have trouble believing there's ever a reason to legitimately mean it
It used to reflect happiness.
This is a poem I wrote from the perspective of Nick Carraway in "The Great Gatsby". It's purpose is to show the disorder produced by expanding desires or greed.
You say I don't care about my motherBut really you just don't underst
In a dark corner is where she'll lay. Silently her tears will fall; one. She'll reach across and grab her knife; two. She'll listen in to her father's voice screaming at her mother. To the sound of his hand meeting her face; three.
he says he hasn't had that much but he'll just use it as a crutch and spend all day drinking away pretending that it doen't affect us. but it does and when we call grandma he'll be drinking it off,
We drank to fade awayuntil it worked.When the morning light painted the bodiesthat we were still trapped in,we fell asleep;too exhausted to carethat we still existed.
Please Note: There is a trigger warning for this poem. When I was 8 years old I felt you become so cold. Still, I tried to crawl in your lap for warmth
This is for the man on the corner of First and Dunn with a sign that breaks hearts and makes everybody run home to their heaters and high-tech computers
He loved alcohol more than your love Like ever guy ,he said those words that made you cave in Guess he thought it was enough To make it work To fall in love
Earsplitting music, flashing lights, The time: two hours past midnight. Clouds of smoke hang in the air, And sounds of vulgar language blare. A man is sitting by the bar Consumed by vodka and cigars.
stumbling, slurring on the wet grass kissing him hitting him fire snaps, crackles 6 am cock crow sandwiched between blue velveteen and James Dean Get an advil, please
As a teenager, time and time again, I am asked the question, "want a drink?" My response to the request always catches the others by surprise. Do I want a drink? To me, this question is so much more.
Get Em Get Em Get Em Party Party Party Cups stacked along the corners of a torn house Aligned like a house of cards, fragile Reeking of booze, alcohol Oops spilled some on the floor
I'd show him what he asked for If he called me beautiful, I'd take another shot If I could prove that I'm fun, I'd agree we were "just messing around" If I could feel his love On a night like tonight,
I live my life by a code To never get drunk nor high, But people think me queer or rude. My code exiles me from the cliques, Never invited to outings or parties, Never asked to stand in the student body.
Brilliance was burned away We drank away our thoughts Gambled which would stay and which would go, We didn't know.