Meth

[Deleted member 175441]

Meth

I crave you, your sweet taste.
I relive you, every night snorting a waste
I deceive you, thorns on every rose
I conceive you, powder to my nose

An ironic vision last night came to me. I snorted all your substance, how I wake knowing I will see you again.

it hurts
when you're gone
for a while.
stained shirts
4am dawn
meth, lend me a smile.

 

[dirzted]

I really like the last stanza

 

[CoffeeDrinker]

It seems like if you were on meth this would be a lot longer...

 

[New]

This is a fascinating snapshot of a place I've been many a time.

 

[Cadamec]

The most insidious drug ever invented, IMO. Takes good people and turns them into liars, thieves, and ruins the lives of more than just the user.

 

[Captain.Heroin]

It seems like if you were on meth this would be a lot longer...

He probably wrote it when he was missing it.

 

[ForEverAfter]

The last stanza is awesome, indeed...
inspire me to write this: (I'm on meth.)

An Emotional Farewell

swiss-cheese veins. just
shot a hundred. gotta
last me six months.

manic pyromaniacs crossing
bridges. burning time.
days ablaze.

our chronic-inferno mix: the
dermatlogical; the psych-
ological; & the spiritual.

excreting a deadcrumb
trail. snakes behind a
slaughterhouse.

cellular long-division. addicts
are indifferent, and invariably
so. (despite variability.)

light-bulb inspiration, refracted through crystals. ideas
bursting into fragmentary thought. logical foundations
upside-down and inside-out. disassembled.

sweat-stains layered like onions. carpet crust
littered like dandruf. pastry, shrapnel, butts.
a thousand nauseating smells, rioting.

the single-use only, insulin syringe. the diamond
tip dribbling red blood. floating, weightless.
like fire, dancing in space.

twitching nerve endings, delivering new
beginnings: exorcising the rabid from
the habitual; the habit from the rat.

shaving teeth with spoonfuls of sugar.
licking-enamel-clean. calendar night-
mares. clocks, running wild.

pupil moons: giant; black;
ingrown. this waking coma.
this death, by ordinary life.

my dreams, dead. disposable days
on imaginary spoons... now, i
know... time is a cunt.

 

[sidestyle]

Jesus. Yes. Yes. Yes.
FEA, you have inspired me to get writing again.
Writing real shit and writing what I FEEL. Not what I think audiences want.

I feel so free, reading what you write. Thank you.