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Literature Text
Endorphins flood my system, leaving
me intoxicated, gasping for more of
this precious and exquisite taste –It
reminds me of the sun beaming through
the child's imaginary cottage, a granny
smiling radiantly, wrinkles carving her
grey tinted, wise eyes of experience.
The fall from the state cracks my skull,
leaving me confused and frantic to
find what once rightfully belonged to
the abused druggie living on the streets.
The ecstasy washes out, the detoxification
evident from my raspy intakes of breath
and dull blacked marks beneath my eyes.
I yearn for that high, the one that brought
me away from the pains and the troubles -
the one that brought me to extreme bliss
and to complete and utter insanity. I look at
the pills sitting in the callused palm of mine,
hesitantly, I drag it slowly to my mouth, and
down it goes, the endorphin flooding till
my death by drugs.
me intoxicated, gasping for more of
this precious and exquisite taste –It
reminds me of the sun beaming through
the child's imaginary cottage, a granny
smiling radiantly, wrinkles carving her
grey tinted, wise eyes of experience.
The fall from the state cracks my skull,
leaving me confused and frantic to
find what once rightfully belonged to
the abused druggie living on the streets.
The ecstasy washes out, the detoxification
evident from my raspy intakes of breath
and dull blacked marks beneath my eyes.
I yearn for that high, the one that brought
me away from the pains and the troubles -
the one that brought me to extreme bliss
and to complete and utter insanity. I look at
the pills sitting in the callused palm of mine,
hesitantly, I drag it slowly to my mouth, and
down it goes, the endorphin flooding till
my death by drugs.
Literature
I've Changed (Yeah right)
I've Changed (Yeah right):
You know, I tell myself everday,
That I'm going to change - that I'll be different.
'This isn't the same; I'm not the same,' that's what I tell myself...
As I sit in front of the computer, praying time doesn't move.
Coward, you're weak and you'll always be weak! You bloody disgrace...
I pick up some new magazine, get inspired,
'I want to be like that guy,' is what I think to myself.
I give it a try for two or three days - I quit.
Same old shit again...
Making up excuses? It's what you always do, you gutless wonder...
I try to reach out with my hands,
Seeking something, anything that I can find to help myself ho
Literature
She always fell for boys who needed saving.
She always fell for boys who needed saving.
Giving them kisses in the dark
to numb their headache from
drinking too much and yet
not enough to kill lust.
She was always adored by boys, who,
if given the chance, would rebuild
the world for her.
But she wanted to be the heroine
and refused to see
she needed saving, too.
Literature
R.I.P.
Did anyone notice that she winced if you raised your arm?
Did anyone notice that her eyes were wide with alarm?
Did anyone notice that she never looked you in the eye?
Did anyone notice that her voice was but a sigh?
Did anyone notice that her skin was always bruised?
Did anyone question whether she might be abused?
Did anyone question why she walked in obvious fear?
Did anyone question why one day she did not appear?
Did anyone recognize her face on the six-o’clock news?
Did anyone see her remains pulled from the river refuse?
Did anyone care that this quiet girl no longer exists?
No. No one did. And she will never even be missed.
R.I
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Was a bit unsure about this one, but the theme of the depression after a high left me intrigued, thus exploring the concept.
© 2012 - 2024 therealanonymous
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