addiction

  • addiction,  mental health

    harceleuse

    the windy night, hot and dusty, holds me back from taking a deep breath sometimes i look out into the dark road and wonder where you went as i walk past the cookie-cutter houses with the gaslights, i wonder if the shadow i see behind the curtains may be you i lost you along time ago you left with a rush, replaced by the internal demon that grabs a hold at night squeezing my breath, suffocating me into silence i hear your footsteps behind me, thudding hard on the hot ground i see my breath this time i dont look back i know you’re here to stay, you never intended…

  • addiction,  living,  love,  mental health

    The Art of Letting Go

    I call it ART because it’s something we all are born with, but need a lot of practice and learning to do. We all have artistic ability in some form. Imagination through writing, painting, crafts, what have you…but some people are just better at it than others. Art is one of those things that only improves with time and by learning to improve our skills. I believe that letting go is the same way. When people say,”Just let it go”, it may seem like the easy thing to do, but we all know it’s not. When you’re holding onto something that embedded into your very spirit, it’s not so easy…

  • addiction,  love

    jungle of madness

    carry me with you, through the jungle of madness don’t let me sink into the sand i know you are damaged, your limbs are broken and your back is weak your mind is all you need to make it through, but my heart is rotting flesh the insects are devouring my spirit, my mind is leaking out my ears my soul is fading away, my love is fading away carry me with you, through the jungle of madness don’t let me sink into the sand i’ll let you rest for a while i’ll let you hold my hand    

  • addiction

    how true honesty can help keep you sober

    I wonder sometimes why I have nothing to say. Do I have writers block? Do I just not care? Do I just not feel anything I have to say is important? Am I not funny enough? Not witty enough? None of this matters. I write because I enjoy it and if someone likes it, then awesome, but sitting here with my computer in front of me, imagining writing the perfect blog post or great masterpiece or jumble of thoughts is frustrating when I have nothing to say. I used to sit in twelve step meetings, waiting for my turn to speak, imagining the perfect speech. The perfect and most inspirational…