These words are combined in a line to express how I feel at this certain point in time. I'm in a realm of darkness where the sun doesn't shine, trying desperately to get out, but I feel like I'm leaving myself behind. I feel like I'm wasting time, but time is an illusion, and if that's true, then it took me no time to come up with that conclusion. I can't seem to grasp the concept of reality—if thoughts create my world, how in the world are they coming out of me? I guess I just live life to the beat of my own drum, 'cause I'd rather face the music than be fearful and run.

(gulp)

Couldn’t resist a minute more.

Relapse.

I again…

After six months sober...

Here.

In this pain I know all too well.

Ten years lost to this drug my veins ache for.

First breath in the morning and last thought at night, all consumed by it.

Every cell in me craves it.

That physical euphoria my body portraits.

Feels like someone has poured pure joy into every single muscle and fiber of my being.

It makes me feel so content

Every single bit of me is singing and buzzing with life and love.

It's like the ecstasy of *******— that first blissful, pleasurable pulsation of endorphins and serotonin.

This is what I feel when I first take LOVE.

And then...

And then, the honeymoon stage is over.

Fights erupt.

Never-ending debates.

Miscommunications.

Misperceptions.

No trust.

Accusations.

Lies.

“I’m done...”

…

Again, it feels like a part of my soul is leaving my body.

Again, sitting here numb.

A toxic love...

I’m addicted to,

And there’s no way around it.

It’s already deep intertwined with my veins.

Yet, no matter the toxic, tragic event that happened before, I sit here, and I want nothing more than to spend my life next to this soul.

To see his eyes unchanged as the skin around it wrinkles and grows old is what my heart will always desire— to stare at those eyes for the rest of eternity.

Dead air…


















So here I’ll wait, until you decided to come into my life again and repeat this déjà vu.

I found out two days ago that he's in a relationship with her. YES, HER! The one I poured my soul out to. The one I called a friend. The audacity.

I don't care that he's in a relationship at all; I don't. It's who he's with that bothers me. Not in the physical aspect of the whole thing, because she's inferior to me in that sense—lol, conceited much? But in the principle of the whole situation.

She has been in our relationship for the past year; she was there for me when things were falling apart, helping me pick up the pieces.

Honestly, I've spent so much energy on this over the past two days; I'm exhausted. I've tried to wrap my head around the whole situation. The end result is FISH.  (**** It **** Happens)

Can we just hop on a train and go somewhere where we don't know the end destination? Right now, this very moment. No thoughts, no second-guessing, no packing, no questions asked. Let's just go and go and go and go. Late nights, early mornings, and long afternoons with no plans—just the blissful taste of random, spontaneous life. Life without responsibilities and reliability. Without lifelong goals, dreams, and expectations. Life without bills and internships to get to that job, to get to that job, to get to that job. Life without insurance. Life without the question of life without.

Let's just hop on a train, right here, right now, this very moment. Don't question me, because if you do, I'll back out immediately—I know it.

Remember when you first fell in love? What colors did you see? An explosion of ecstasy in the form of chromotherapy?❤️

Such a deceiving embrace, like pine trees with white pine blister rust. Disguised as love, only to find out it was lust. Be careful, my dear; butterflies can sometimes be wasps.