Ghostwriter, Author at Addiction Poetry

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How does she coax a rose from

Ground Time Will Be Brief, by DAS

Our Ground Time Will Be Brief

Pressure on figs makes them sweeter.

—Arabic saying

If only your date of death were slipped

under your door—then maybe you’d jettison

your adolescent, super-human fictions, not film

your roof-launch onto piled mattresses;

maybe

you wouldn’t walk across the arc

of the bridge’s left girder on a dare,

sneakers snugged between round buttons

of oversized bolt heads, river and train streaming

beneath, your pals waving from the bank

like frightened windmills;

maybe, just maybe,

you’d stop telling yourself there’s time

for another shot, another black out drunk

where tales of that other self mount,

achieving cult status—

time for cigarettes

coughed up in the cemetery—Dog,

you’ll get over it, choke it down;

maybe

you’d stop saying there’s time enough

to travel to that distant island

with its Recovery sign twinkling;

or time

to make love again and again to

a woman you don’t love.

If you held

death beside you every night

how would you live each day differently?

What carnival ride would you choose

as the hands near zero?

What words

would you commit to? Poems that attack

cancer cells, as if the push

of pen could clear fields of them

blooming in someone’s lungs?

Would you drive

across seven states to tell your ex-lover: I slept

with someone too, shouldn’t have blamed you?

Would you sign intake forms with your real name?

Takethe train to Hoboken

and hold her hand

again? Here, this is that notice,

a Coming Soon sign

wrapped around a book of matches.

The rustled paper seems to whisper: Go on,

burn down the house, set fire

to all that doesn’t matter.

Here, this envelope

and note can kindle it, watch the blooming

take the wood.

Author: DAS

February 21, 2021

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Our Ground Time Will Be Brief Pressure

Zopiclone

Zopiclone

Author: Annie K.

PM.

Zopiclone. Zo. Pic. Lone.

Zo.

Zo, zo tired.

Wash your fatigue over me,

like a welcome wave on hot feet burnt by sand.

Pic.

Pic me up and plonk me down.

In my bed. I don’t care

about the lights being on or;

the wind smacking the curtain or;

the the child crying.

I can’t see you. I can’t hear you –

No more.

Lone.

Lone Alone

Without you –

Stress, worry, hopelessness.

Lone Loner Lover Love

Lovely.

Sleep

Goodbye

Thank you Zo. Pic. Lone.

AM.

Wake

Hello

Fuck you Zo.Pic.Lone.

Wrong side of / off bed

Hangover without drink.

Drug dependency.

I’ll be tired

all day and won’t sleep tonight.

Eyes fizzy,

brain fuzzy,

stomach woozy,

Zopiclone,

Why do I consume you?

Now you consume me.

February 12, 2021

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Zopiclone Author: Annie K. PM. Zopiclone. Zo. Pic. Lone. Zo. Zo, zo

The Hardest Farewell For The Recovering

Author: Katlynn Gibbs

This has been the hardest goodbye I could ever imagine.

Without you, I begin to feel shy all over again.

I would count on you to break me out of my shell.

Now that I don’t have you, I get mad and start to yell.

Fearing learning how to learn again,

I realized that I must find myself a new close friend.

Not wanting to say farewell forever;

yet knowing deep down that it’s only for the better.

Now, I’m consuming myself with love made by me.

Accepting and moving on will be the most important key.

Changing my mind has been the difficult part.

While here, it has seemed to go hand in hand with my heart.

Without you, I will always be glad for my steady health.

While I’m suprisingly pleased with this better, new improved, version of myself.

January 25, 2021

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Author: Katlynn Gibbs This has been the hardest

Living with an Addict

Author: Maggie Millian

There’s so much pain.

It feels like an ocean.

Sometimes the ocean is calm and sunny.

But when there’s a storm,

And the water gets choppy

I feel the waves crashing against my body.

But the thing is

that even when it is sunny,

The ocean is still there.

And I know what the water is capable of doing to me.

How quickly it can turn on me.

How the water can lift me up

And deliver me back down

gently.

Or it can drown me.

And when the storm comes,

The problem is,

I never know if it will pass.

And I certainly can’t remember how the sun felt.

All I can remember is the grief of knowing that sunshine was once possible.

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Author: Maggie Millian There’s so much pain. It feels

Beautiful Disaster

Author: Savanna Tufts

Behind her bright eyes was a mind full of fear

She hid that pain well, barely ever shed a tear

Her smile hid a heart full of hurt but she still had a laugh like no one else

She cared for everyone in the world, everyone except for herself

She took the wrong road, that speed limit growing faster

The progression was excessive, she was a beautiful disaster

That smile would fade and that laugh would disappear

Her mind growing foggy and her thoughts now unclear

Her conscience being drained, and her sense of belonging was gone

Impulsive and unable to differentiate the right from the wrong

Being stripped of who she is, that beauty turning into a beast

Her innocence transformed and a monster would unleash

Unrecognizable from the woman that she once used to be

She needed a glimpse of hope to realize that she had to dig deep

And reach into her soul and find within herself that little girl

The one that would once smile in public and it would light up the world

To teach her that she doesn’t need to be scared, give her the strength she never had

Tell her that she can remain pure in a world that is brimming with bad

To let her know that it doesn’t matter who she became, only who she becomes now

She can turn that beast back to beauty, if she would let some faith in and allow

Allow positivity in and surround herself with like-mind others

That have the same goals as her, that way she no longer suffers

With an everyday obsession to rid herself of her truth

To stuff the pain and hurt that she keeps bottled in from her youth

To grow and let go of those that keep holding her back

That keep dragging her down and blocking her light so it’s black

Darkness is debilitating and it keeps her from leaping toward

Her dreams, and It hurts her, but their stagnant and she has got to flow forward

Cuz if she doesn’t heal what hurt her, she will bleed on those those that didn’t cut her

Trapped in a cocoon, blocking metamorphosis from happening so her wings cannot flutter

And that will fill her up with shame and remorse and strip her of her happy ever after

And her beautiful success story would end, once again, a beautiful disaster

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Author: Savanna Tufts Behind her bright eyes was

Unnatural Disaster

Author: Savanna Tufts

My bottled up feelings boil up and like a volcano they eventually erupt

I impulsively pick up and start burning everything that I touch

These cravings engulf me, as if they were a tidal wave

They master and control me, like I am their vital slave

Like a sink hole, my face descends and begins to concave

My eyes deeply sunken in, like a skeleton in a grave

Like a tornado, I spiral, and start destroying everything in my path

When I can’t get what I want, you know you’ll hear my wrath

Relapse after relapse and another mistake after mistake

Breaking my heart and my home, like there was an earthquake

The thoughts of my past flow in rapid, like there is a flood

Ruining the lives of my friends and the lives of my blood

This disease steals all of my light, as if it were an eclipse

I got some tools to stop, but my belt isn’t fully equip

Some people claim it’s not a disease, and ignorance is bliss

Will this be the death of us all, like there’s an apocalypse

Like a hurricane, addiction is cruel and a force

You have to let each relapse just run it’s course

As we let a natural disaster run the course that they do

Cuz if intervened you don’t know what might ensue

The overwhelming fear and remorse rumbling in my mind like thunder

Sometimes so unbearable I think I’d be better off six feet under

I wish they could just shock my head with a bolt of lightning

So I could have a normal brain instead of one that is frightening

I’m afraid of my own thoughts and my life starts to crumble, that’s erosion

It’s blowing up every bit of my persona, now that’s an explosion

Coating my character like rust on metal, now that’s some corrosion

Every single hope and dream I’ve had shattered, like an implosion

I’ve got to pump the breaks and start moving slower, not faster

Because I’ve got to stop living my life like an unnatural disaster

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Author: Savanna Tufts My bottled up feelings boil

It’s happening. I’m losing me again. Quite honestly I don’t know if I was ever found. Found in a way that fills this hole, this pain.
You.
I’m waiting on you again.
It’s not your fault you have restrictions. I’m just having a hard time with the intermissions.
I’m anxious and tired; nauseated and can’t sleep.
What am I letting you do to me? Or more logically, what am I doing to myself?
I loved you.
I. Love. You.
And it’s killing me because you’re so close yet still so far.
We are both yet still so far.
Is this real? Or do I listen to my gut? Will I ever really be enough? Are these my insecurities or the ability to see your soul? Are you really narcissistic and manipulative? Is it time I let go?
I’m scared. The pain and anxiety I felt for so long; wondering, worrying, praying for you. No matter what you did to me, I forgave you. I did wrong too.
You get sober and you ask for me. Why?
I’m right back to feeling like I’m not pretty enough for you or good enough for you. The past haunts me. Is it true?
I’m right back to being scared this is all a game. I don’t wanna play.
I don’t know what’s real.
I can’t talk to you and I need you.
I’m so conflicted. I love you so much it’s like a sickness.
Please tell me what’s real.
I need to heal.
I love you.

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Author: Aimee Simmons It’s happening. I’m losing me

Old Me

Old Me

Author: April Cornwell

Crystal rocks & different kinds of baggies
money stacked 5’s, 10’s, 20’s, & 50’s
phone goes off another person at my door
plenty of money doesnt matter I want more
police are running up surprise its a raid
I was careful but is always ends the same
county here I come and I don’t even care
hell I knew the risks & still bravely dared
opening my eyes realizing it was just a dream
no shaking or cold sweats for I’m still clean
I refused to live that life any longer
that’s the old me now I’m stronger.

November 28, 2020

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Old Me Author: April Cornwell Crystal rocks & different

Lifestyle

Lifestyle

Author: April Cornwell

Sometimes I still feel the pull
the want to be back in that lifestyle,
I have to fight it every single day
to give up will be a life in exile,
now i awake always wondering
just who in the hell was I?
exchanging rocks for dollar bills
knowing at any second I could die,
that door to destruction has closed
I’ve opened another even better door,
now I’m sober life is way different
i refuse to live that way anymore,
I know I can be a better person
that lifestyle isn’t worth a damn,
even though at times it was fun
I know now this is who I am.

November 28, 2020