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  A needle: a small, thin object with a sharp point that mends our open wounds.   Sewing needles are polished and used by seamstresses to keep our clothes stitched and tailored.
As a past drug addict many people ask me what LSD was like… but…   How do I explain the rain to someone who had never felt it? You've felt it hit your skin
Breathe. Broken. Helpless. Hurt. Cast down. These words burnt a whole into Kendra’s heart. Breathe.
a heart beat is when the heart speaks i guess it says a lot about you when you come around a constant uproar as it pounds my chest im lusting for your flesh im lusting for your best
I CAN SEE THE LIGHTBY MIRA WILDERI'm a creature of Habitmask my feelings of painI've lost my way...and my faith, Lord.Take my Handbefore I fly awayin this darkest hourof my life.
Monday morning, and you're bored again
Food, drugs, sex, booze, work,
Unmanageable, need help to stop addictions,
"I'm going to swing from the chandelier"
I am in a room alone Full of friends here to help me  As they move place to place, I remain succombed to any new help or  change Because the small white ovals are already working to
This poem is directed towards my eldest brother... who has been on a heavy drug addiction for the past year. He has a 5 year old son who he barely sees and has got himself in a lot of trouble with the law. Hour Glass of Tracks
I'm the man in the sky  I watch you with my hazy eyes Take my hand I'll set you free Step into my reality   Here there ain't a ceilin' with walls
Like a puppet with ripped strings I hang limp from a tree that is rooted in bad seeds. I have no direction and no recollection of anything but the present. Everything else is blocked out and I always want to shout.
Is it because me and my gurl dropped out Our sophmore year of high school, for becoming 16 yr. parents? Was it us taking that risk? Or was it life we decided to miss?
  My images were distorted, a played out fiction book of torn pages and darken memories. A scripture that I will never forget,
Pleasure. But only for a few hours, until the high is over. Tension rises till the climax is reached. And when it hits it's done.
“Hey Ella! Nice to meet you!  Where are you from, what do you do?” Where is easy.  What is hard. What do I do?   I hold her hand when she says “Ella my stomach hurts” She’s 14, and she’s four months  
A pleasant wind doth call your brother's name, But clouds and flames are all he can proclaim, A wizard's trick, a chemist's mix, Are the absurdity of this fix. Hollow are his feverish pleas,
Struggling, searching, thrashing Swallowed by the darkness Hopeless, helpless, sinking Do I take that final breath? Lungs are scraping Crushed by the weight Buried in blackness
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