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Name of the Game

entry picture

Alcoholic,
That's what I am.
Numb,
That's the brand.
Comfort,
That's all I want.
Memories,
That's what you haunt.
Escape,
That's what I try.
Inside,
That's where I die.

Backdated 2/7/19

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alcoholic

A Suicidal, Drunk, Insomniac

I have forgotten the feeling of what normality means.

I float around within a numbness submerged within a dream.

I see the world pass faster every single day.

I see my end come closer, I see the future become shorter;

 I can’t help but slaughter the time as I begin the decay.

It’s hard to find blame, but it’s a rationale thought to try and understand how this happened.

The worse ...

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alcoholicsad poemsselfish mansuicide

you know how it go(freeform)

pull out thre trigger u know how it go 

call up lil leek cuz he still got that 4

when I'm down bad I do not got nopbody

release all my problems when I drink this bottle 

still fucking hoes man I just fucked this model 

nobody know about all of my problems 

call up tequila u know she gon solve it 

I wanna stop drinking but I got nobody 

I try to reach out but they always dec...

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2019addictionalcoholalcoholicaloneangerdepressiondrug abusehatelonelynesslovepainparentspoetryregretSelf-doubtsubstance abusesuicide

Thunderbirds is go!

Those kids who were... cool

What I aspired to be- to transcend

From awkward chubby ginger, to some kinda

Myth

 

The bankings

A wash of denim, cheap cider and flowering pheromones

Trains no longer passed, but

Away from prying eyes, and Stringers finest

The juggernaut of youth still ploughed through

 

Faceless passed me a bottle

Faithless I sank, and swigged at fu...

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alcoholicteenager

harakiri.

Sometimes I over drink.
Oops I mean overthink.
Ah fuck it, it's the same damn thing.

I over pour my glass leaving no room for coke.
The voice repeating in my head of the last words you spoke.
You ask why I'm self destructive but the truth is I dont know.

I'm starting to think that the devil is a lie.
The only evil we see is what we bury inside.
I'm going to lose to myself, it's only a matt...

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alcoholicoverthinkingsuicideWritersBlock

No Questions Answered.

If I went to a professional they'd probably say it started when I was younger
Which begs the question why it didn't affect my older brother

Maybe it's just the way my brain is wired
I'm just so god damn sick and tired
Of being so damn sick and tired
Why am I always so fucking tired?

I just go through the motions
All the days just blend together
The only thing keeping me going
Is the hopes...

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alcoholicanswersbrotherfamilynopoetquestionsrhymeShrink

Habits

We all have out tipple of choice, mine
i sip.
It's potent breath intertwines with mine
filling my lungs with pleasure.
Satisfying all of my dreams and desires.

I swig,
as my words become dizzy, muddled.
Phosphene eyes to match. Spirits,
lifted.
A wonderful serendipity,
i am free.

I gulp,
my mouth runs away with me, legs
unable.
The clock strikes, it's hand jittery
face wobbling.

...

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alcoholalcohol abusealcoholicamateurteenager

Father.

entry picture

This make-believe story I predicted in my head,

To pieces upon the ground does it fall.

A happiness once experienced -

A security long gone,

And a father I had imagined -

Now a memory in which I had created.

 

But, the hurt inside is real -

All torn up, how does my heart continue to beat?

A trauma of the past -

Why must I remember what I wish not to?

 

I created...

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abusivealcoholiccancerdeathFatherloss

sober

Friday 31st January

That was the day I gave up drinking

The last time I would wake up on the sofa

Drenched in piss and regret

My wife sobbing in bed

Alone and tired

The last time I would poke chunks of my own vomit

Through holes in the sink

Because I couldn’t reach the toilet

The last time I would scream blind at my daughter

For daring to ask me a question

For dari...

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alcoholic

Alcoholic With Sick On His Shoes.

Alcoholic with sick on his shoes,
Sat on a brown wooden bench
In the middle of town
With his old dog,
Flea ridden,
Shaking, gray,
Lacking good vision
Waiting for a meal
A dropped pasty or pie
A sandwich, perhaps rye.

I, was never taught in school
To be such a man
It was always
You could become a lawyer,
You could become a teacher,
You could become a business man
Never, you could ...

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alcoholicEverydayLifePoempoetrysociety alcohol

Amy

The breath had left her, not long ago.
Her face, pressed into the pillow
Drained black tears onto white linen.
Her fight had been lost; the long battle had ravaged her
And her iconic war paint scrawled ironic defeat in tracks
Down her pale skin onto paler sheets.

A motionless husk; as she lays there;
Her raven hair, unravelled from familiarity,
Fall's delicately on her back,
C...

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addictionalcoholiccelebritydeathfamelondonlonelinesspoem

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