I’m craving for a time when the snow would level me out
From the bathtub bottled gin
That takes 20 minutes of focusing the mind to open
I need a lie down before I put the bicarb salts to indulge my sins
I sit here dying my hair
I don’t want to disintergate this mortal skin
I know won’t compromise
They won’t grant me a dividend.
In the positivity I feel when my nonsense brings me more clarity
The urge to give in to that initial rush.
Knowing that skiing the slopes of the cold rush
will end in a broken arm
A splinter to embarrass my ego
Show me up in a self-delusional femur propped up in a white cast in a sling.
Won’t humour my smile or bodily akin.
Write to recover
Write to reform
No, reaffirm I’m better without my foes
I used to call my brethren l.
I’m better now
Don’t ruin it
For brief a 30 second thought I sniffed out as win-win
Actions become our past
The future can make it count without losing an ounce of my heart to the demons of the crypt.
I won’t sin.
Posted on Dec 15, 2020, in poetry and tagged addiction, creative outlets, Emotions, freestyle, Life, poems, poetry, Relationships, Stream of consciousness, triggers. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.