Tag Archives: Addiction

My Scorpio Was Lucifer

You remind me of all the tragedy and trauma I try so hard to romanticise
Of all the pain I hid behind a smile
Of all the weight I lost trying to fit in with the style

You remind me of hell and mental asylums

Of the snake that told Eve to give the apple to Adam – they were both parts of me
You tried to annihilate them

A realisation based on the sands of time
On the realisation that your heart never was mine, only the curses and the demons from time to time

You remind me of sin and gin
Combined with anger and the demons of hell singing

Of ravenous corpses rising

Of a plague only the mind knows but the body shows

Of ravenous corpses climbing
Of a plague only the mind knows but the body shows

Yet I see Saint Lucy beckoning

With light like a stream

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A Salvation So Bleak

Just another sip, crisp and like vinegar in taste
I’m so close. Numb me just a little bit more. Cause my body to hit the floor.
I want to feel closer to comatose. Lusting for death, the existence of a whore.

I should feel shame at the pain
At the desperation
At how little this makes me gain
But I can do nothing but beg for more, to gain that temporary satisfaction
Bring me closer to my grave
Numb my sense and make me forget my existence upon this plane, this organised mass of dirt
It is the reason for my demise, my clotted lungs and strain on my nape

My soul is tired of the demons that dance around me
who kick out my knees for fun, in a merry-go-round about me
A pain I feel even when hope shines gently out my eyes like twilight
I’m not truly able to escape its tide
All of my hope becomes undone – this is what makes my existence feel like ice.

Black wings descend upon me
I think it is death – finally some respite
But it is my Angel’s wings come to protect me.
He looks just like me – no caricature of whiteness. The bleakness of his wings showing me the depths of the turmoil I feel within. He cares for me.
He believes in me and all that I stand for and will not stand for weight of guilt to bury me
Even the demons I flaunt explicitly, he does not shy away from them but makes them worship me.

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Jubilant Zombies

It’s funny, I still dream of warm nights where perfection resides in our mosquito bites
Where the bodies of numerous people jaiye and gyrate

They exist, but not as we known them to
With drug fuelled rantings and ravings
Addictions that the public may not necessarily care about, so they eat you up from the inside out

It’s not all stomping and shaking, that’s not the only thing making you inebriated

Hallucinogenic drugs with a higher addiction ratio than the perfect high

They’re trying to catch the same rhythm, the same feel as you

They are insane just like you.

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The Loves: Part Two

Diagnosis 3

The kind of love that sucks and drains you

Like a vampire after your blood.

Consumed in a venus fly-trap.

Your love seeps out of your fingertips.

Your eyes

Your lips

Even as the very breath leaves you

The love leaves too

 

A driving force on its own

Creating on its own.

Creating and destroying powerful bonds across the universe.

 

Licking at your legs like the fire of hell once it leaves you.

So-o good

 

Love soo good it feels like a sin worthy of committing

 

Starving yourself of food and water

In hopes this love will sustain you

Though it controls you

 

You relinquish all power to it the moment you realised it flowed through you

 

This love is like a spirit

 

Like a Siren

 

Calling the possessor of this love to their death

Leading them into the Abyss

Into the den of the wolf, created for their death

 

 

Diagnosis 4

The love as delicate and as beautiful as a rose made of ice

glistening with vulnerability and genteelity.

 

Yet the ice proves to be diamonds.

The hardest rock known to the common man

Only manipulated by high raging temperatures.

Much like when we make love.

 

Our Blood boiling like lava

As if to create a diamond then and there

Deep within us

 

Burning too hot, forming too hard and fast

Creating a beautiful hardness within us

for fear of a beauty like that will never consume us again

 

Hard as a rock

As beautiful as a diamond

Yet still so cold, once all the lava and fervour is gone.

 

Left feeling alone and abandoned

Like a floating poler icecap

Isolated from the rest of its property.

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The Loves: Part One

Diagnosis 1

The Love that we love to lust for

That is not truly for us.

 

As careless and carefree as the wind, yet has the ability to fertilise unknowingly and oh so naturally.

 

Not for me

Not for you

Not for us.

It belongs to no one and seeks to travel the world of pleasure; simply for experience rather than gain

For the taste, despite their insatiable hunger

 

This love that is greedy and doesn’t stop wanting your worship

The intensity is equally as aloof as it is clingy

All consuming, like the sea above our heads

Drowning, yet simultaneously swimming towards this treasure chest; of gold and riches unknown

Never quite reaching it

Never quite grasping it

 

But the hope and idea of it keeps us swimming

Treasures that will never truly be ours

This is that type love.

 

Diagnosis 2

This dangerous love.

A one-sided love.

A victim and the criminal love.

Taking advantage and the crying damsel in distress

The Beast raped Beauty in sleep, mentally, but Disney forgets that part of the story

That Beauty – in all of her blissful and willing ignorance – became a slave to beast

To this abusive love

Of the Injured and Insecure; constantly breaking the beautiful, passionate and innocent

All she has is you and your abuse to look to, hoping one day that you will gain humanity

 

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