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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: clear empty truthsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: mixedemotions00
    ASL Info:    24/F/US
    Elite Ratio:    6.26 - 574/377/69
    Words: 238
    Class/Type: Misc/Angry
    Total Views: 842
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1831



    Description:
       wrote this after being drunk, when the effects of alcohol were wearing off. It may seem a little overdramatic, but this is exactly what I was feeling. Reading it sober now, I can see that it hold true, though I try to deny it.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsclear empty truthsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    The night’s stupidity,
    drunken haziness
    burns me to the core
    as my cigarette
    burns away,
    disintegrates
    in front of my eyes.
    A death stick,
    disappearing,
    and I do nothing to prevent this
    suicide.

    I say things I don’t mean.
    I speak only the truth.

    Why does this honesty
    scare me
    more than reality?
    This stupored fake-life,
    half-life,
    honest life
    frightens me to death.
    drives me to insanity,
    to life after death.
    to death after life.

    Why do thoughts come easier
    late in the night,
    early in the morning,
    as the drunken frost
    and dwindling alcohol
    take their effects
    and make me shiver?
    I doubt myself more,
    dislike myself more,
    hate myself more
    through true eyes.
    Through my blue eyes.
    Through clear empty bottles.

    Purple smoke
    through the black sky
    and orange streetlight.
    My soul withers,
    and tears drop.
    No one to wipe them away.

    Light up another one
    in hopes of warmth,
    only clear water in
    clear empty bottles
    to aid the shivering.
    Burns my ears,
    tears up my eyes.

    But the tears fall
    long after the
    “Lucky 20”
    burns away.
    Gone.

    And I’m still here,
    shivering.




    long hallways
    and neon lights,
    never-ending repeating carpet
    forever embedded in my memory.
    my living hell.
    no mirrors.
    I hate this view of me.

    Only carnival mirrors
    and well-chosen masks
    can save my soul now.




    Submitted on 2004-11-16 10:27:12     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Reading this made me stare at my shadow side. I liked the piece but trying to keep up with the changing metaphors was a little difficult. I could relate to this piece, the last stanza was especially moving. I often find my cigarettes provide false fleeting warmth and wonder why I still am chained to those coffin nails. The only thing that seemed to be confusing or distracting was trying to keep the metaphors straight.
    | Posted on 2008-01-31 00:00:00 | by Dante Runes | [ Reply to This ]
      very deep and poignant write here, my friend. this reminds me of why i had to quit drinking. and smoking, for that matter. not all of us are alcoholics, but alcohol is tricky and very insidious. if you haven't yet, check out my Eulogy for Drugs and Alcohol... when it starts to get to you like the way you are describing, perhaps it is time to back up and take a good look at yourself. i hope that you can take that mask off and try to find the truth in your soul. i keep you in my prayers and thoughts... this read is very thought-provoking.
    | Posted on 2004-11-26 00:00:00 | by magnicat | [ Reply to This ]
      damn. This is a truly powerful piece. I know the feelings you evoke so well it's almost surreal. Self-knowledge, especially that found in the early morning hours after a long night of drowning your sorrows, is often a hard thing. I say especially, because in the hours where even god sleeps, there's nobody to comfort you when you can't comfort yourself. Great write, keep up the marvelous work.
    J
    | Posted on 2004-11-26 00:00:00 | by bentnotbroken | [ Reply to This ]
      This is great. I love "as the drunken frost/and dwindling alcohol/take their effects'" because it is so true. It's supposed to cloud your mind, but it often makes you see more clearly. That's one reason I quit drinking (I've never been much of a drinker though. I'm depressed enough without it). "Purple smoke/through the black sky/and orange streetlight" is great. I'm a sucker for color.
    | Posted on 2004-11-16 00:00:00 | by cuddledumplin | [ Reply to This ]
      This total self-abasement may seem like truth to many, but it is sin-wrapped and guilt-ridden, just the way The Enemy likes it. The rationale of the alcohol cleansing the facade to allow clear examination of oneself is a lie shrouded in burial clothes.

    The truth is the write is about being lost. Living a lie usually brings every human to this point sooner or later. Like a masterpeice painting adorning a port-o-potty, the writer lives beneath his/her potential, unable to see value or worth in much of anything.

    This was a very powerful write. I commend your willingness to share it.

    The truth is you were never born to live as expressed in this poem.
    | Posted on 2004-11-16 00:00:00 | by The Gadfly | [ Reply to This ]
      good write alot of lifes skills happening personal to yourself or someone you no this is happening to give you this thought a little more dark imagery would do wonders to your thought no bad intent made still a good piece
    sandman
    | Posted on 2004-11-16 00:00:00 | by sandman | [ Reply to This ]
      Why do we all get deep when were drunk or high? Anyway I think that you realized your flaws and it's hard to admit that they are flaws. I appreciate the honesty in your thoughts. This poem is a little overdramatic but at the same time your thoughts are deeply felt.
    Nice Work.
    | Posted on 2004-11-16 00:00:00 | by The Black Rose | [ Reply to This ]
      Hey Beautiful!
    Well...cancer sticks and distorted drinks are a filler...we all share this pain of happiness.
    Alone to dry those tears?...hmmm
    Seems maybe things have gone amuck since the last time we spoke...you know, you are alone...though maybe by yourself...but never alone.

    The images here make me weepy...I feel you come to light and be true yet not liking what you see...then I ask why?...the affects of the drink or being lonely?...mah...no matter
    The poem is a slash of saddness and maddness with what seems you by the end saying...only masks can save you...never deny
    who you are...in all your faults and beautiful being...you are a treasure and don't let the down times make you down.
    I like this one...but it makes me wish you a better today and tomorrow!
    Kelly
    | Posted on 2004-11-16 00:00:00 | by clay | [ Reply to This ]
      I'm not for sure what I think. But I think that's a good thing. I was left with a lot of questions, is it the drugs that make you shiver or the thought of not having them later? I'm not sure if I liked it, but I didn't dislike it so I guess that's good.
    | Posted on 2004-11-16 00:00:00 | by ashlee_jane2003 | [ Reply to This ]
      Alcohol can be an evil enemy!
    This is a good poem showing your open honest feelings about your life being stupored by this enemy...
    Good luck in life!
    | Posted on 2004-11-16 00:00:00 | by psycho_1 | [ Reply to This ]


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