Innocence lost, Gone…


How is it you feel so uneasy? How is it that I feel fine? My brains, that were once splattered on the wall, have now slid down the wall to the floor by the garbage can. Which is where I found my heart, where you threw it once you were done with it, leaving a stain that the very same eyes that refuse to see it, are the only ones capable of cleaning it. My head is now empty as I watch my heart stop beating. My body grows cold without the now blackening blood being pumped through it. So I sit and breathe, or try to, gasping is probably a better word for it. For even though my head is now empty, it has become a cesspool of fucked up thoughts that are starting to become actions one at a time. I watch with eyes that are not my own- borrowed- stolen, and there is nothing I can do about it. I try and move only to find myself paralyzed with a strange sense of relief. The masterpiece is now being painted by itself, life as the brush and my blood the paint. Its like looking at a train wreck where two trains have collided head on. One train being driven by my disease of addiction, fueld by hate and consumed with fear. The other by recovery that is fueled with strength and driven by the blinding light that is Hope. Often times I have said that it is in the dark when and where I see the light the best and the brightest. Today, for now, I flipped that light switch off. My vision has become blurred and red with all the smoke and mirrors set out before me. So darkness it is, no sense in20170318_112052 fighting it. I don’t even desire to look and see anymore. I need to FEEL. The darkness is just as true and real to me as any light I have ever seen or felt. It has become a familiar place that is not always a bad place. I have over come and accomplished many things right there smack in the middle of the wide open and vast infinite darkness. I have also emerged from the grotesque filth of some really deep dark places victorious and with no smell, good or bad, just that of my own. So it is here I sit in the dark, sifting through a bushel of rotten apples that has become my life. Patiently seeking one to bite into that doesn’t hide a worm. God bless and stay up…

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