Addict

A cup to mask the Emptiness: Escaping from my head Chained by indifference-- My ears concede to their demons This desire is all-consuming: Enveloping my defenseless thoughts Indulged in the silence: Deception is my biggest fan My brain gets burned, like cigarettes-- At a party, with Apathy and all our friends I drift, through feebly-willed-thoughts Re-opening a secret trail to Regret I allure begotten destruction Searching for Death's cousin If I wake up in the morning-- I'll play Russian Roulette that night...

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Poet Destroyer A

Date: 1/10/2018 4:46:00 AM

Adam, wow, that's a sad trip to suicide, on the weak side of things... i recently helped a loved one, with this kind of irony. You write about the journey well. This is deep, and i appreciate what you have here. I've read topics on this before, and I have to admit, i did not like most. However, you have mad skills, and I'm looking forward to reading more from you. I don't know if i ever read your poetry in the past, for i haven't been here in a long while. Anyways, this is a great and awesome poem. Many can relate relate to. This will be my first FAVORITE poem. Haven't had one since February of last year... take care. LINDA

Adam Kinsley
Date: 1/13/2018 1:08:00 AM

Thank you for your in-depth reply (as opposed to only a few words). I truly enjoy the process of self-reflection in writing. In this piece, I use the imagery to portray a feeling and state-of-mind rather than a literal act, e.g. 'playing Russian Roulette' is not to be taken directly, but rather in the sense that the subject knows that they will die if they keep going the way that they are going. The piece outlines one who doesn't want to kill themselves, but knows that they will overdose at their rate of consumption. I try and portray someone who is sad because they drink, not drink because they're sad, if that makes sense.