Addiction Poems
Moon Spawn
by Quinn Smorenburg
This heat, confrontational;
chips carried on shoulder.
Never breathe, think,
speak, drink till closer
bringing itself in you.
Addictions begin to
blossom. Whore house
posse; optics lopping.
Spun room; coughing.
Hid moon. Tossing.
......
I never miss
by Bogdan Dragos
"Relax," she told him. "I never
miss."
She found his vein from
the first try
and shot him
And the stuff was so good that
he died
overdose
......
Cigarette
by Thomas Gallagher
I make love to the material world through you.
My lips touch yours, and you hate me when I’m gone.
You’re terrible for me and I say we’re through.
But we both know I won't last till dawn.
Yet Again
by Jeff Bresee
The feeling
haunts me
time and time again.
I feel it as it’s coming
like a scent upon the wind.
Like wind across the predator
wafts out to warn the prey.
So likewise all I know and feel
screams, “turn and run away!”
......
My Excuse
by H.L. Montague
My Excuse
I scroll on to the next post on Instagram, the ten hundredth time that day,
I don't know what I'm looking for but I'm sure this isn’t the way
To find it.
I’m itching to get up, to run, to lie in a bed of wilting, overwatered green grass.
But I sit in my bed still, scrolling through Instagram.
I know I should do homework, I should get it done so that
I can write.
But homework won’t give me what I’m looking for.
......
Moon Spawn
by Quinn Smorenburg
This heat, confrontational;
chips carried on shoulder.
Never breathe, think,
speak, drink till closer
bringing itself in you.
Addictions begin to
blossom. Whore house
posse; optics lopping.
Spun room; coughing.
Hid moon. Tossing.
......
Cigarette
by Thomas Gallagher
I make love to the material world through you.
My lips touch yours, and you hate me when I’m gone.
You’re terrible for me and I say we’re through.
But we both know I won't last till dawn.
Getting High
by turbo1904 Middaugh
I was too busy
getting high to
raise my kids.
I kept getting high,
over what I did.
I was too busy getting high,
to do the right thing.
As you get older regret,
burns, bites, and stings.
......
At The Door
by Jeff Bresee
Curled up in the corner
in dead of the night.
Afraid of darkness
and praying for light.
Eyes peer from the ceiling.
Hands reach from the floor.
Hearts beat from the walls
and he stands at the door.
......
Yet Again
by Jeff Bresee
The feeling
haunts me
time and time again.
I feel it as it’s coming
like a scent upon the wind.
Like wind across the predator
wafts out to warn the prey.
So likewise all I know and feel
screams, “turn and run away!”
......
