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 Jun 19 Talon Robinson
jules
i told myself i was done.
scrubbed the bathroom tile like it was me that needed cleansing,
not the floor.
drank coffee instead of shots,
hit the gym,
got good at smiling again.
they said i looked better.
they always say that when you’re not dying in front of them.

but they don’t see
how the ghosts still come at night,
how the itch lives in the jaw,
in the back of the eyes,
like a ******* radio playing a station
you thought you turned off months ago.

i was clean.
for a while.
like the silence right before a scream -
that beautiful, dangerous quiet
where you think maybe you made it.
maybe this time you beat it.
maybe this time you win.

but addiction is smarter than you.
it waits.
doesn’t need to rush.
it knows you’ll come crawling
when the applause fades,
when the texts stop,
when the world gets boring again.

you think you’re sparing them,
keeping it tucked away,
like shame’s just a private little pet you feed
when no one’s watching.
but hiding it doesn’t protect them.
it just breaks them slower.
like they’re loving someone through bulletproof glass -
close enough to see the cracks,
too far to stop the bleeding.

and the worst part?
the worst part is that some days
you’re proud of how good you’ve gotten
at pretending.
how well you play “okay.”
like you deserve a ******* medal
for surviving your own lies.

truth is -
you don’t ever get out.
you don’t get cured.
you just get distance.
and even that -
that’s a rental.

because addiction
isn’t about weakness,
it’s about forgetting how to want anything
that doesn’t destroy you.

and maybe one day
i’ll be better.
but i’ll never be new.

and maybe that’s what clean really means -
not the absence of poison,
but the choice to keep waking up
even when it still lives
in your bones.
I do not know your name—
only your silhouette
etched in the echo of things I was not given.
Your absence was my alphabet.
I spelled every woman with your ghost.


They loved me.
But I loved you through them.
Your hands behind their voices.
Your eyes haunting their praise.
They were flesh, and I was kneeling.


I made gods of strangers.
I made homes of hunger.


Mother—not mother.
Lover—not lover.
I could not hold the difference.
They all became symbols
and I became a shrinekeeper,
tending lies with tenderness.


Forgive me,
those I touched but never saw.
I was trying to reach through you
and forgot you were not them.
And they were not you.
None of you asked for this altar.


I am dismantling the myth.
I am returning the light.
 Mar 28 Talon Robinson
Nina
I’m just drunk
& I love you
and I’m sitting here drunk
& I love you
I am a peach, juicy and pink
dripping down his chin

I am succulent lamb
tender flesh falling to pieces between his teeth

I am a strap of leather
taking his pain, with pleasure

I am a tapas
teasing his taste buds
one morsel at a time
Surely
I am but a wisp of smoke
Swirling boundless
To and fro

Out of the fire
A non-corporeal host

Stinging eyes
Burning nose
Cough me out
Or start to choke

Surely
I am but a wisp of smoke

Another cloud
Another soul
Into thin air
Watch me flow

Out the window
And down the road!

Surely I was
A wisp of smoke...
Traveler 🧳 Tim
My avatar wrote this..

PS all those things this writing made you think were intentionally design by a wisp of smoke..
If I knew then
What I know now
Would every new decision
Lead to the same place somehow?

©2024
 Nov 2024 Talon Robinson
Varsha K
From here to you I say
Writing is your healing,
Never let it get away.
The community of lovers, hurts, addicts, wonderers & wanderers.
 Nov 2024 Talon Robinson
Isaac
irony
 Nov 2024 Talon Robinson
Isaac
shatter your heart first
so it won’t be broken

trade your soul first
so it won’t get stolen

take your life first
so it won’t get ruined
Humans are weird.
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