Assignment: Write about someone who has an addiction of some sort. You could be
the one with the addiction or you could be witnessing someone with an addiction.
The addiction could be one that they are able to stop or can’t break away from.
Can be any style of writing you choose. Must be at least 250 words. This assignment is due at the end of the period.
EXAMPLE:
Sip
after sip
Cup after cup
Bottle after bottle
Too much was just never
enough for him
I would sit there as I watched him pull his expiration date
closer and closer
Why was he doing this?
The outcome wasn’t going to be
anything beneficial
Temptation has got him by the tongue
And she wasn’t
letting go anytime soon
Not only was he harming himself, it was the people
around him, as well
But he would never remember
It was as if these
horrific moments never happened
He was a monster
An uncontrollable,
terrifying monster
There was just no stopping him
As much as he said he
wanted to stop
Something in his mind just wouldn’t let him
Alcohol was
what he thrived off of
He wouldn’t let anyone take that away from him
As
he’s here racking up on bottles and feeling good
We are racking up in tears
and bruises
Aggression came with this monster
Why was it that the one in
the wrong is the only one feeling good?
Here my family and I were suffering
as he watched and laughed it off with another beer
This just wasn’t
right
No matter how mad I would get at him, there was still a soft spot in my
heart for him
I knew that this wasn’t him
This was just the monster that
came with the alcohol
This just needed to all come to an end
But sadly,
the path that it was taking I don’t think would ever stop
Temptation brought
out the monster and she wasn’t going to tame him
Gavin slouched down, laying on his back and covering his face.
ReplyDelete“How could this have happened? I was gone for what, an hour looking for the ruins? How the bloody hell could they have managed to move into such a solid position so quickly?”
Damian patted Gavin’s shoulder, his other hand linked to his and awkwardly dangling above his face. “Listen, I have a plan, just unlink us and I’ll let you in on it.”
“You think I’m an idiot?”
“Hey, you haven’t tried killing me so far, and I have no intention of killing you, I have no reason to.” Damian held his bag up between them. “I need to get this to the Syndicate, and bursting into their base and killing all of their men to get to their leader doesn’t seem like a viable approach, so I need your help.”
Gavin sighed and tapped a code onto his side of the cuffs and both ends hissed as they unlocked. He rubbed his wrists and put the cuffs back onto his belt. Damian, on the other hand, felt like he’d just been freed from Alcatraz. He hadn’t noticed his powers being restricted when Gavin put them on at first, but now that they were off Damian could feel his power coursing through him. It was the most empowered he’d felt in a long, long time.
“Alright, so do you have any way of communicating with the headquarters?”
“Other than the emergency channel not really.”
“Well good, because this is an emergency.”
“But Damian, emergency uses of the emergency channel only classify as-”
“The goddamn city is under siege, I think they’ll make an adjustment to protocol over this.”
A continuous touch to the skin
ReplyDeleteAt first he held it away from his skin
Then each day it slowly went closer and closer to the skin
Then it finally made contact with the skin
Afterwards it finally punctured the skin
A tear came down his face
Pain screamed throughout his whole body
The next day he tried to stop the knife that not only affected his skin it affected his heart
The blade hurts like millions of continuous burns rushing through the body
His heart broke slowly each time that he punctured his skin
But he didn’t care; he had to release his feelings
The next day he looked at the knife wondering
Should he or should he not?
The question continued to roam his head
He began to stroke the knife
A rush came through his body
He looked around looking for a sign of life
He slowly picked it up and held it near his skin
He could hear his mind scream
“Do it!”
He let the knife go and stepped back not trying to hurt anyone else
His mother cried for continuous nights pleading him to stop
“It’s just a rush”
He would continuously tell his mother
It was a lie
He left the drug life and came to the life of cutting himself
He once again picked up the knife and looked at it
He penetrated the skin with the knife
A sigh came out
He felt happy and he grabbed another one and began to do it to both his arms
A smile crept on his face
The blade continued to hit the hearts of millions that cared for him
Afterwards, well I won’t tell you I’ll let your imagination take play
A month later his parents went to his funeral
But yet people thought throughout his life that he was fine
Don’t assume, for an addiction can’t be stopped easily
She said she only wanted to try it
ReplyDeleteOnce, and that was it
That’s how it started
One time is all it took
Everything changed
After that day
This is how the addiction became
She said it took away the pain
I begged her to stop
Nothing was ever the same
She was a different person because of it
She wasn’t the girl I used to know
The drug became her life
I knew one day it would take her
She said nothing felt that good
I couldn’t look at her anymore
Her family was broken
Her happiness was a lie
Her childhood was gone
She was helpless and so far gone
The drug was unstoppable
All I could do is watch it kill her
Slowly and painfully
My best friend no more
A stranger to the world
No one can understand
How hard it is to watch
Your best friend lose her life
She was smart
She was pretty
She had it all
Until that day
They say change is good
But not this kind of change
The pressure got to her
I wish it wasn’t real
That day I will never forget
Her mom crying
“Not my baby girl”
The funeral
It was unbearable
Here one day
Gone the next
Is all I could think
Her pain is gone now
Forever free
From the addiction
You can bet it
If you try
She just wasn’t that strong
Fear is what she felt
When it gained control
Addiction took her
Far too soon
Wrinkle here
ReplyDeletePimple there
Bags so heavy
Too much fat everywhere
Why can’t she just call herself beautiful?
Complements are given to her but they mean nothing to her
They are lies in her opinion
No matter how pretty she looks she will never see herself like those girls in the magazines
Perfect is what she wants to be
She strives for it but she doesn’t think she will ever be able to reach her goal
She just can’t view herself the way she wants to
She constantly puts herself down because it’s just so hard not to
She wants to break away and actually call herself pretty but she just can’t
Every little thing is a flaw to her
Why can’t she understand that flaws is what makes her so beautiful
But no, she will never think like that
She is full with negative thoughts towards herself
Each day they bite at her a little more
Soon she is going to be eaten alive by the negativity that is trapped in her head
I just want to help her break free but she refuses
It’s unnatural for her to feel pretty
She has come accustom to viewing herself in such a harsh way
She needs help, but just won’t take it
What a shame it is for a girl to feel this way
It’s as if she is obsessed with filling her head with negative thoughts
Almost as if she thrives off of it
I just want her to see her beauty
My addiction is simple. I love to compete and I love to win. Ever since I was little all I ever wanted to do was win. Everything I did no matter who I did it with, I was so competitive. Even the smallest things that seemed as though they meant nothing, it meant something to me. I honestly do not like this quality about me sometimes because I take things so seriously, even when I know I should not. I just cannot help myself! In my mind I understand that it is not really serious and it does not mean really anything, but I always find myself trying to win in the end anyways. It is in my blood though, competing. That is how my Dad was too. I see a lot of my father in myself. With the stories that he tells me from when he was my age and all of the things we do, and I realize how much I take after him. It is pretty crazy how similar we both are, when he was my age we were basically the same kid. We were the same kind of athlete, student, and just person in general, which I will never be embarrassed about or ashamed about because if I could be even half the man that he is today, I will consider myself to be a success. We have the same passion for certain things, especially being an athlete. You see, with my Dad and I, failure is not an option nor is it acceptable.
ReplyDeleteDO IT.
ReplyDeleteI took a deep breath. I knew that I shouldn’t.
DO IT.
I picked up the razor.
THAT’S IT. JUST DO IT.
My eyes filled with tears.
IT’S OK. YOU’LL FEEL SO MUCH BETTER WHEN IT’S OVER.
My hand trembled as I raised it to my arm.
EVERYTHING WILL BE BETTER IF YOU JUST DO IT.
I held the razor just above my wrist. “I just want to be normal,” I sobbed, the tears spilling uncontrollably down my cheeks.
YOU’LL NEVER BE NORMAL.
I dug the razor into my skin, and bit my bottom lip to keep from screaming. I didn’t want my parents to hear. They couldn’t find out. They’d never understand. How could they understand that I need this? It’s good for me. It makes me better.
DON’T YOU FEEL BETTER NOW?
I let out a sigh of relief and closed my eyes. I don’t like to look at my arm when I was done; it took away from the experience. Instead I like to lean my head against the cool tile in my bathroom and feel the blood pump slowly out of me and drip down my arm. Maybe it doesn’t make sense to most people, but all that blood is like a sickness. It feels like the more blood I lose, the more problems I’m getting rid of.
A few scars is a small price to pay for this temporary sense of relief, isn’t it?
I couldn’t help myself. The way everyone judged me was unbelievable. I put the needle down and looked at everyone who was surrounding me. I should have figured my family was going to come over since it is my twenty third birthday. I didn’t even know what to say. I looked down and just waited for something to happen. The looks on everyone’s faces is something I don’t even know how to explain. The devastation on my mother’s face got me upset. No one knew about my addiction of heroin and I wanted to keep it that way. Too late for that I guess. My mother got up and left through the front door. Everyone slowly followed her and soon I was left alone. Tears would not stop falling from my eyes. I knew I couldn’t get rid of this pain in any other then that needle. I picked it up again and as soon as the drugs were in me I felt better. All the pain went away and I sat there thinking of anything other than my family. In high school I was an all A student and a very popular athlete. I like to think of myself as a normal person but I’m sure my whole family is thinking the opposite right now. I knew what I was doing was wrong but I couldn’t stop. Hours past and I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about how my poor mother feels right now. A drug is not worth losing my family. It’s going to be hard but I need to do it. Checking myself in to rehab is the only solution because my addiction is not just going to go away.
ReplyDeleteIt all started with an idea. Everything started with the idea of the perfect companionship. He would be the nicest person of all with amazing capabilities of ruining my day, if he pleased. His smile would have the potential to brighten up my darkest days. In my eyes he would be beautiful but not beautiful enough to attract any woman that walked by. He would fear losing me; he would do his best to keep me by his side each and every day. All these qualities, I found in you. What was only an idea became a reality the day I met you. No one can compare to you and no one can make me feel the way you do. There has not been a single instance in which an individual provoked feelings inside of me similar to those that you produce within me. It’s crazy to think about how you turned my world around. You drive me crazy, yet I cannot get enough. I need to be with you even though it might seem like what I need the most is to keep away. I cannot spell out my need for you or paint a picture to describe my desire to be by your side. You are perfect for me even when you make me feel miserable. There is no one else for me; there is no one else that I would prefer. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but that’s what you make me think and that’s enough for me. I believe it with all of me, so I think it’s safe to say that I am addicted to you.
ReplyDeleteRyan P. Tunison
ReplyDeletePoem XXV
That liquor which causes drouth
Of heart and raging flood of mouth;
All to bring pestilence and burn age,
When each glance gives pain with that old visage.
Soft whispers of calming rage,
Each drop to pour like ink ‘pon page,
When alcohol bridges blood to stream lung,
For all the noise once silent now has rung,
Calling to that which ever does not hear,
Of that sweet whisper breathed in the ear,
Falling deaf and numb of all null,
For liquor makes always dull
All void of love in heart.
Now lost when apart
From liquor lost;
Only a host.
Tempted to rely on that bottle
Which cease all nerves that rattle,
Of love and hope left famished,
For never could that reliant be banished.
He wanted to make his daughters proud. He wanted to make his wife happy. He had been on the battle field in Germany and France in world war two but he couldn’t stop smoking. He didn’t want to stop. He knew it was hurting his family, two of his daughters had bronchitis and pneumonia all the time, but he couldn’t quit his habit.
ReplyDeleteWhen his middle daughter was in third grade, a whole ton of health information went public about the risks of smoking cigarettes and second hand smoke. When his daughters learned about it in school they came home and asked their father to stop. They made posters and cards and hung them around the house and on the refrigerator to give him a gentle reminder not to smoke. He felt bad. He knew he couldn’t quit; but he did not want to hurt his family. There was scientific proof now that smoking is harmful to the human respiratory system, and especially harmful to a child. He had to stop. But he did not know how.
George was only a plumber in the union. He couldn’t afford spending money to get medical help to quit. He needed to find a compromise that he could handle and make his family happy. He realized that since all the guys smoked on the job, he could just smoke there, and if his wife asked why his clothes smelled like smoke, he would tell her it was the other men at work. So he began to do that. He struggled a bit at first to not smoke after work and in the morning. But he knew it was for a good reason, he was keeping his kids healthy.
He was able to keep this up for twenty years, until the day he retired. He realized that he could not continue, he would be in the house most of the time now. He wouldn’t be able to continue. After all these years of hiding he had to quit cold turkey and this time he wouldn’t have his family’s support, they didn’t know he was still addicted. He regretted his decision to keep the secret from his wife and kids. But now there was nothing he could do and he was going to have to quit.
It had started out innocent. Just a couple of times here and there; that soon turned into more. One cigarette a day turned into a pack a week. That turned into a pack a day and it continued to increase. It wasn’t something she was stuck with, it was something she enjoyed. Madison had gone to all the health classes; she knew how bad it was. Madison believed she was already gone so there is no harm in a little smoke. She even convinced herself that it was the same thing as being around a bonfire for long periods of time. We grew up together; I knew how bad her home life was. I never blamed her for using smoking as an escape or distraction; I understood. She was sad all the time; there was no running away from the sadness for her. When she smoked, it was a little easier for her to smile and push away the tears. In the beginning I had tried to get her to stop. I had pleaded and begged and even hid her cigarettes sometimes. That sounds childish and desperate, but I was desperate; if there was a word for more than sisters I would use it. She was my best friend; I was there for all the fatal attempts and I saved her every time. It broke my heart that I was unable to save her this time. She knew what she was doing to herself and what I was trying to do. She had even said to me, “you’re not going to be able to save me this time.” I didn’t believe that at first; I would always be there to save her. When I realized how serious she was, I accepted it but I still didn’t like it. I hated that she was wasting away her life this way, but she was just waiting for that final moment. I wasn’t lying when I said she enjoyed it. She liked knowing that with every drag of smoke she took a piece of her died. I couldn’t describe exactly to you what her thinking was behind this all. I can only guess because it was a subject that pushed us apart. Smoking would kill her but still give her time to make amends with everyone. I’m not exactly sure, but that’s my best guess. By the end, I could read it in her face how much time she had left. It was a lot more than she expected. Smoking is a slow killer. It lets your eyes sink in first, then it yellows your teeth and finger nails. She wore whitening strips and painted her nails to hide it. When people asked why she looked so tired, she would give some lame excuse. “I don’t feel too good, “ which was true because smoke-time was usually past due. In the end, smoking was just taking too long and she was right; I wasn’t able to save her this time.
ReplyDeleteI shake when I can’t have it.
ReplyDeleteYou may not see it, but I feel all my insides twitching.
Imagine a tornado turning on a swirling surface.
I feel my blood creating waves that crash onto the sand.
When the first wave retreats it is lost under the new wave,
Creating a mixture of rough enclosed exits.
There are so many different directions,
But there is nowhere to escape.
The ocean is inside me.
Every object in it harms me.
The seashells jump around,
Trying to break free-
They grind their pointy corners on my flesh.
I feel trapped in my own body.
Without it, I cannot be.
With it- I have serenity.
The smoke creates a lullaby sung by a mermaid.
The calming tune controls the wind.
As I firmly feel it between my fingers,
The tide retreats into the vast opening of veins.
The beach that empowered within me,
Is now as still as an untouched lake.
Peace all around me- I am finally free.
Confusion and distress are no longer part of me.
Until of course the light reaches the filter.
At this moment, I feel the tornado inside me ignite.
Once again, I shake.
Nothing can calm me-
Only the lullaby of smoke, released from a thin cylinder;
It which controls me-
Is addiction.
(This is another piece I started to work on because I am having some difficulty moving forward with the other story. I'll probably continue on that one soon...)
ReplyDeleteI knocked on the door with a trembling fist. My insides were aching and my shirt was soaked in cold sweat. The hot summer air stuck to my knotted blonde hair and I wanted to pass out. I took several deep breaths in the hope of maintaining consciousness, trying to peer through the glass panes on the side of the door.
It felt like eons before someone finally came to let me in. A set of worn French doors opened wide and a large woman came to the door. Her face was instantly familiar and my mind began to project frightening images. I knew this woman and I knew that I had to get out of there, but before I could run away or tackle her on the blue tile floor of the foyer, I felt myself growing weak. And then I passed out.
My ears were the first part of my body to recognize my surroundings. I heard birds singing outside and footsteps clobbering down the stairs. I heard the television playing Seinfeld in the next room and I felt the creaking of my muscles as I tried to rouse my body from a comatose-like sleep. Next came my nose. I smelled something delicious cooking on the stove and the scent of grass and nature seeping in through a window, from which a casual breeze blew into the house. I felt relaxed, until I remembered exactly where I was, and then my eyes snapped open.
I sat up immediately and noticed that I was lying on a cot, my feet tied together and an IV stuck into a vein in my arm. Needless to say, my worst suspicions were confirmed and I ripped the needle out.
“Going anywhere, Casey?”
“I think you’ve had enough Jeremy.” Anna said looking over at her friend who was drinking himself into a stupor. “Come on we’ve gotta get home it’s getting late.” She said inching toward the beer that was in his hand. Jeremy snatched the bottle away and then smirked at her.
ReplyDelete“I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough, woman!” He slurred while taking another long swig. “This is only my 3rd.” He laughed while placing up five fingers. Anna shook her head and leaned again toward the bottle. He growled at her and narrowed his eyes.
“Seriously Jeremy we have to leave. It’s past 2 and we have to be back in the dorms in 30 minutes.”
“And your point is?” He asked still amused finishing off the beer.
“My point is we need to get going.” She said getting irritated. He looked at her and started to laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“The fact that you’re such a buzz kill! It’s hilarious An.” He laughed clutching his stomach. “You really need to learn how to relax.” He reached onto the table and took an unopened beer and pushed it toward her. “Here loosen up a little. Have some fun for once in your life.”
“No” She said shaking her head “I don’t want to have the type of fun you like.”
“And why not?” Jeremy asked raising an eyebrow.
“Because this isn’t fun Jeremy! You’re a drunk! A disgusting alcoholic for the past few years and I am sick of it!” She yelled glaring at him.
“Oh look at me stopping.” He said while chugging down the drink. Anna reached forward and smacked it from his hands.
“You may think drinking is fun, but it’s not Jeremy! Not how you’re using it! You can’t just drink away your problems!” Anna yelled in his face. Jeremy looked at her bored and let out a deep sigh.
“Now I have to get a new beer.” He muttered while getting off of the couch.
“Excuse me!” Anna yelled pushing him back to the seat.
“Listen I know I’m an alcoholic. I know I am a drunk, but knowing it isn’t going to change anything. You standing in my face won’t change anything. I’m going to drink for my own reasons and dammit I enjoy that. So either accept it or ignore it because no one is changing it. You got me!” Jeremy yelled while glaring at Anna. “Now” He pushed himself back off the couch “I’m going to get another drink. If you’ll excuse me?”
And at that moment as her friend walked into the kitchen Anna saw her friend lost control of himself. No longer was he the same person, instead the addiction took him over. And sadly she knows no way of breaking him from the sweetness of the devil’s nectar.
Addiction
ReplyDeletePapers sprawled all across the once white carpet
Bruised fingers on my left hand
Notes filling my open mind, reminding me of the good ole times that were once in motion
Legs side by side, toes barely touching one another
As I take in the dynamics I start the piece
I start to feel the passion in which it has wrapped me around its tiny little f hole
Bow flying through the fingers in which it holds on to dear life
Rosin marks leaving traces of an intense practice
Sweat dripping down my face
Unable to put my violin down
Close my eyes and play with all my heart
The vibration of the strings that rung off when I hit each one
The freedom in which it would give me
The high that would make any coke addict go crazy
Not wanting to stop,
Not wanting to back down and take a break
Only wanting to keep going, to finish and finish right
No reason to stop, only motivation to continue
To strive to what I want to accomplish
May only be scribbles on a white piece of paper to you
But to me, to me it was an escape,
A reason to go throughout the day,
Something to look forward to
Something to practice hours and hours for,
Not for anyone else but for my own selfish matter
For my enjoyment
And to that I realized
I had to face the facts,
I was addicted to my music.
(absent Friday)
Searching for an escape;
ReplyDeleteHe looks down at his wrist,
At the razor beside him-
Tempted.
A sharp kiss to his skin,
A slow dance with his blade;
He would feel relief.
It was almost as if one touch,
One slit beneath reality,
Could lift away his sorrows, steal him from his troubles.
It would numb him for the while,
Take away his pain for the moment-
But that moment wasn’t enough.
Cut after cut,
Scar after scar,
Relief became an understatement.
Nothing seemed to satisfy,
Nothing eased the pain.
With each passing day
Blood rushed from his veins.
Spiraling quickly and out of control,
There was no chance of being saved-
This habit was taking over his life.
It became second nature to him-
Cuts appeared without thought.
His friends always asked,
But he never talked-
Of the troubles in his mind,
Or the absence of care,
It was impossible now
To fix what just wasn’t there.
But then came a girl,
Who quickly changed his whole world.
She brought light to his days,
A remedy to his curse.
Days went by,
Days turned to weeks,
And weeks to months-
His skin had been untouched.
Was it because of the girl?
His saving grace?
Had she reversed his curse?
It seemed as if he had been,
Saved,
Rerouted,
Restored.
The boy who was shown to be lost,
Had been found.
Nibble by nibble,
ReplyDeleteBite by bite,
She could not bring herself to stop.
Nibble by nibble,
Bite by bite,
Chunk by chunk.
Now she was bleeding,
Small red droplets slowly oozing out of what was left of a nail.
But still, she could not stop.
It hurt, it really truly did.
There was a burning sensation,
A sting here, A tingle there.
But she could not put her hand down.
A coping method, that’s what they had called it.
A coping method for anxiety and stress..
It seemed to work though.
There was no anxiety, or stress, or depression, or feeling of being upset.
All the emotional and sentimental sufferings would become purely physical,
Masked behind the pain at her fingertips.
All other feelings vanished.
Her mind intensely focused solely on ripping, tearing, biting.
Somewhere, someone along the way taught her this method
Or she saw it some place, maybe even brought it upon herself.
Which ever it may have been, it was absorbing her
Consuming every bit of rationality left within her cloudy thoughts.
She did it any chance she could,
At any moment in which all other hardships become too much to handle.
All feelings of desolation, distress, loneliness were gone..
Temporarily.. But gone.
Even for just that small instance, even if it would all soon come rushing back,
For those split moments, for those bare minutes, it was all just numb inside her.
Numbness.
That’s what she aimed for, would not stop until it was achieved.
It had become an Addiction,
one seemingly impossible to tame.