A Poem for Treatment

[uncledude]

In the velvet haze of twilight's sigh,
Where shadows dance and worries die,
Oxy whispers secrets soft and deep,
A velvet chain that pulls you into sleep.
Valium glides like rivers calm and slow,
Easing edges where the wild winds blow,
It tames the storm within your mind,
A gentle thief of time, unkind yet kind.
Scotch, the amber fire in crystal gleam,
Burns through veins like a forgotten dream,
It roars with warmth, then fades to numb,
A liquid courage, bold and dumb.
Weed unfurls in clouds of emerald green,
A lazy laughter, soft and serene,
It paints the world in colors new,
Where thoughts dissolve like morning dew.
Together they weave a tangled night,
A symphony of bliss and fleeting flight,
But dawn will break, and echoes remain,
Of pleasures borrowed, laced with pain.

 

[swish17]

Well written

 

[uncledude]

Chemo Room, Week two

The chair reclines like a dentist’s nightmare, but the needle slides in sweet as a lie.
A clear bag drips poison that tastes like metal and tomorrow.
My veins drink it anyway.
Hair leaves in fistfuls, quiet as snow on a grave.
I sweep it from the pillow each night and wonder if it will stop.
Nausea is a slow tide that drags the whole day under.
I float above my body, watching the stranger in the mirror
who used to laugh at bad jokes and now counts ceiling tiles to stay awake.
Friends text “you got this,” but they don’t see the hours I bargain with myself.
I tell them I’m fine.
Some lies are kinder than the truth.
Still, between the retching and the cold sweats, something stubborn flares up.
I name it anyway: the part of me that refuses to leave the table before the meal is finished.
One day the bag will empty for good.
I’ll stand up, legs shaking, and walk out into ordinary light.
The world will look the same, only sharper, as if every color had been waiting
underneath the gray just to remind me I am still here, still hungry, still mine.
will it be the end?

 

[lnx]

I always hated when people would tell me, "You got this".
Like they know what you are going through, always wanted to tell them F Off, but in a nice way but never did, I know they were just trying to make me feel better.
Kick that C right in the balls and tell the reaper to F off.
Good poem, Unc...

 

[satansl0th]

nice