Long Relapsing Poems
Long Relapsing Poems. Below are the most popular long Relapsing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Relapsing poems by poem length and keyword.
Mythical Thinking
In the beginning there had been the word…
She had spoken wisely and made believe
had been a poet all her life creating fiction
scripted parables about a primordial bang
Now she encountered writer’s silent block
yet pondered about her bestseller in waiting
quite ready to reap the harvest and sensed
she had to deal with considerable competition
She rested in the ocean’s tide among pebbles
‘Can I produce a stone so big that I cannot
lift it myself?’ she answered in the affirmative
got stoned on hash brownies and magic potion
A rainbow presided over a giant shibboleth
‘This is a defining moment in history unfolding
I have created Socrates Darwin and Descartes
let the party begin and philosophy challenge’
‘They will believe to have created Me in their image’
Wishful rationale delusion psychopathology or faith
the jury is out there but ‘I appointed the judges
at the High Court of arbitration in the Garden of Eden’
She sensed there was nothing more to achieve
sat in her deck chair awaited Titanic battles
‘A bit more cannabis won’t hurt I am God after all’
but had been warned about relapsing dependence
When she was about to thread Camels and dope
through the eye of the needle injected some more
into self-proclaimed heroine of glory and fame she
shivered and fainted for the rest of day number seven
I know I'm second-hand
Filtered out to feed ur addictions
It's bad for my health
But I can't help relapsing over the touches
They take the cigarettes to their lips
and blow the leftovers at me
And I inhale with everything I have
I'm out of breath
But when im with them
It feels like something to live on
I'm an addict for the 2nd hand
I can't avoid it as it blows through me
Around me
Hazing everything I used to be familiar with
It becomes a part of my bad habits
My new form of oxygen
Different from the one I was taught about
I'm second-hand
And I hate that my lungs are worse than u thought
It burns when I think about it
I shouldn't have gone
I promised I'd stay away
Find something to give me purpose again
But turns out it's all I'm good for
A product of what I was made of
2nd hand on what I grew up on
Sometimes i ponder why,
the way i am
Why the universe shows me myself
And shows me my reflection
While im just a man full of insecurities and sin
Born into a story that feels fiction yet still bland
I loose so much that it feels impossible to win
Im a failure im a freak
Im a monster
And It burns in my head as i hold in all this heat
I shouldnt even exist
As i fail everyone from head to feet...
I try to be happy..
But i dont know whats wrong with me
I can make all these words rhythm as i sink in my chest
Relapsing in my own misery
I wish i could change the world...and be the best
But my expectations always kill me
The farther i climb the harder i fall
But im trying to be more
For someone
Who like me wants things to change
Even if mine is more selfish..
Cheesy and raw
I just hope she remains
If not i guess il understand
As i am not the best of the best
Or the strongest internally as my soul breaks down most days
And brings me heart and mind to a crawl
I dont even know what this poem is about
Except for the fact i never feel worthy
Even if its my last name..
Like an angel stripped of wings
Yet i still make a way to hurry and bring myself off my knees
Before time closes the window
And il forever regret and think of what might have been to be
Sipping her tea without any visible relish,
Her crumpled bag of shopping at her tired feet,
Alone she sits in the cafe and isolatedly apart
Stranded in her sorrowful sea of sadness
Only to raise momentarily her sightless eyes
At the sound of the peripheral trivial vivacity
Portending the levity of another tomorrow
Before relapsing into her inward gaze
To consider not the future but endless eternity.
That picture echoed in her hollowed out cheeks
Her funereal clothes, lacklustre look and lifeless lethargy
Spelling out a life no longer enjoyable
More of a sentence to be endured.
She drags herself out of her chair
Gathering her belongings together
For her unsteady exit
To enter upon the remaining days
Of her final moribund pilgrimage
I'm surpassing my limits imagine the vision,
Of grasping intentions to master existence,
A savage I've witnessed bedazzled by gimmicks,
I laugh but I meant this I ask for forgiveness,
My past interventions were passion resentments,
Relapsing and quitting soul nagging from interest,
So sad had to end this what I had is not a friendship,
My mask being lifted surpassing my limits,
Within found a Light there my Savior waiting right there,
As I prayed to It found a way to It cause ego never fights fair,
It's my only weapon in Spirit small voice at times I can't hear it,
But It told me to not fear It just persevere and come near It,
With one step I start coming to a slow jog now I'm running,
Can't procrastinate cause I want It with fascination I'm hunting,
My imagination undaunted to face the demons that haunt it,
With a small knot in my stomach surpass my limits I'm coming!
I've given it my blood, sweat, tears,
It has taken every ounce of self-control,
I've been so close to relapsing but I didn't,
I did all that I could and I did it.
I've been clean.
But I undress, I strip,
I stare at myself in the mirror with eyes open wide,
It frustrates me to not see myself bleed, not in suffering, not in pain.
I zoom in on the scars that I once punished myself with, they're healed, they don't bleed, they don't hurt.
The violence, the anger, the rage they once were now they're just innocent marks left by crimes of hatred.
I should be happy to see my scars heal,
I should celebrate the disappearance of them,
Instead, I cry, it takes everything in me to not try to give myself new ones,
The healing doesn't fit right with me,
Peace, calm, tranquillity, they're unsettling to me.
The curse lies in me it eats me I become the curse.
I cannot fathom anything good.
Every inconvenience results in bloodshed,
I try to stop myself,
But I know I never can
I can't not go back to my old ways
The story of my life is written in blood
Then who am I to stop the blood from dripping
After all, it's me who's hurting no one else
I can make the choice,
Every ounce of pain and suffering I am well deserving of,
So there's no true point in stopping, not being in pain is going to do no good to me, so why should I even consider putting an end?
Healing is a myth
Recovery is a lie.
i take a bite to a thing called "life"..
sweetness...
shared with friends and families
on occassions where there are joys
though it doesn't involves toys...
bitterness..
as failures, disappointments flows..
at times sanity and mind blows
for it leaves tears and sorrows...
face-to-face with these maladies..
dear, let me be your one & only lady..
i don't have silver nor gold
nor do i have a hot body or beauty..
all i can assure is my deepest sincerity..
and of a heart containing purity...
stay by my side, i'll try to abide..
lifting your downcasted hurt pride..
together, we will share a slide..
dancing on waves until relapsing tide..
i will not speak...
nor will i try to peek .
those crumbling emotions at peak..
let it fall, make them weak...
i will share my strength..
i will render my care..
i will try to shine a light..
in your world, you said to be dark..
Woke early from bed, picked up the daily reader right away
To keep those insidious cravings at bay
After that I knew just what to do
I picked up the phone and called my sponsor too
We talked about the na program and some of things she said
Helped to clear those nagging cravings in my head
For some reason my mind goes to addiction
Making up stories that are purely fiction
It tells me to pick up a drug
That always yanks out the rug
Beneath my freshly clean feet
And if I use I will feel defeat
Sponsor said do the next right thing
And examine my motives before relapsing
Into a world of darkness and gloom
I do not want to go there so I make room
To do what I know is best
Practice the program with a little Zest
By the time the conversation ended
A solid plan was mended
I became of use today
And because of that stayed away
From the evil I’m accustomed to
Replacing it with service to do
My daily activities of life
Feeling no more or little strife
Wishing clouds bring about constant rain
It illuminates the body with joy and pain.
So, the air we breathe is constantly being absorbed
By the love within our hearts and the sad remorse.
The trees will bring about the shade that hides the shadow of darkness
The skin hides the inside of the body that hurts from sorrow.
The Sun will bring our body everything we need
Only to be taken away when the body is weak.
So why do we go outside when there's nothing to gain
Being born into a world with imaginary wings and a fake name.
Because the sensitivity of this young world will bring trigger fingers to the forefront
While our mastering minds are trying to teach every heart to love every month.
But only God's energy and frequency will penetrate our minds
To ease the pain and suffering of our own kind.
But the devil's vortex that's hovering over our crown
Is erasing the mental and relapsing us back to the ground.
So how do we escape the escape room when it's surrounded by four walls
That represent depression, women undressing, self-control, and painful aggression, which is our downfall.
So we sit back and watch our people get shot while they get shot by a vaccine that represents a gun
To kill our bodies, with lethal injection that makes us so numb.
To the point of death only to become a zombie that will feed off the mental making you insane
Only because your body is dead but still alive, moving in cosmic motion without a brain.
sweet old lady with the oxygen tank
telling me stories with morals that i would never even think to think of
i keep her company at times when the pain of her regrets become too much
i keep her from relapsing on the addictive drug of herself
i do not dwell on her self damage
rather, i focus more on what she wants to do next
right now she wants to take a short walk down the sidewalk and back
together, we wave at everybody and make their day in some way
we then walk back home where you collapse on the sofa and eventually fall asleep
however this time you did not wake up
your stories will now become legends in every part of heaven
i will live my life by the sweet inspiration of you forever
you were like a blossoming flower inspiring me to bloom and grow
when god called you Home, it did not give me a blow
instead it gave me Hope for one day your memory will be on a mighty pedestal
sweet old lady with the oxygen tank
i breathe life for the long overdue preservation of you