Sitting in the dark just gives me visions of you
No matter either way the wall is built
No matter the covering
No matter the adversity
Take me into your simple arms
Your sinful arms
Return me
Release me

When the clicks go click and the rifle has a kick;
Behind your head. Those bullets rip
a part of your life, from the outside- in. your heart.
It trusts a little harder.
;My razor has the power on the counter, And im stuck in the shower.
Trying to climb this curtain tower.. spinning with the room.
Still.. I lay, without power.
My arms, weary.
My legs are weak
and my nose. Clogged purely with powder. But it's not flower;
My drink is sour, I try to cover it with caffeine, Gum, and hours;
I want it to work,
But without options or chowder. The choice is;  live or die. I haven’t power,
No money, Just a coward. But I see it.
nor money; or regret,
the pill will make it better. But with drug tests, and stomach upsets I can’t.. I can’t waste it. A chance to be made. Or forfeit. But I won’t quit..  
It’ll hurt a bit. At least for a time,
But **** it,
I’m crushing a little white downer

If I never feel happy again.
If I get a case of the “**** its”
and follow that red glow all the way to my grave
(because it feels warm once in a while).
If I walk into a venue in my hometown
and smell the familiar scent of stale beer and regret.
If my mom passes away
suddenly or succumbing to the passage of time.

That I’ll never heal from how I was treated
and continue to treat myself the same over and over.
That I have to rely on jokes about my grandmother
to keep her memory alive
when she is not.

If I let myself down
again.

I started using again
Relapsing to relax
Filling my cold empty vessel
With a warm flood of emotion

Feet on the pedals,
Crunchy Gravel.
Sunshine.

Cycling to nowhere,
Round and Round,
Without a care.

Fences and trees,
and paths and leaves.
Laughter. Joy.

Up and Down,
Back and forth,
A circular journey.

Round and round,
Over and over
and over and...

Beginning, middle, end.
Addiction, Recovery, Relapse.
OCD, Depression, Anxiety.

Cycling to nowhere.

You think that thought
You hold your breath
You press into your skin, but theirs no regret.

You let it go.
You dropped it, the metallic blade hitting the floor.

You don’t know how much of this you can take anymore.
You feel like you’ve lost your mind, there’s just all these thoughts whirling around inside.

Crimson drips from the crease, at least tonight I get to feel a freedom of release.

My recovery was like climbing a mountain
Hard
Tiring
But so worth it
Then I lost my footing
And fell
Now I'm laying at the bottom
All beaten up and broken
Too hurt and tired to start again