I'm back to the time
Of writing myself letters
Bargaining with myself
Reasoning with myself

Reminding me of all the things
I am
And all of the things I am not

My biggest critic has always been me
I just know I can't live in make believe

Just wishing I could see someone else.

I have reached the bottom of my soul
And seen the peak of my ability

The wasteland of trauma
Aided by my vices
Has led me to fear what is inside

I have climbed on broken glass
And seen the blood dripping
Only to not have moved an inch
And to have only hurt myself

I now have the wisdom
"Why am I climbing on broken glass?"
"This cannot be the only path."
I have turned around
Maybe I'll find flowery meadows

I have thought about being something
Other than myself

To be the smoke from an exhale
Of a shortening cigarette
Fading into the air.

To be a brown leaf
Of a dying tree
Falling to the ground.

To be the the bubbles
Of a powerful ocean wave
Incorporating back to the mass.

To be free of this mortal shell
Of despair and agony and turmoil
Drifting through the world.

Day in & day out.
My will to continue.
Crests and falls.
Whispers & exclamations.
Trials & tribulations.
Scorn & exaltation.
Enconium & condemnation.

Yet, here I am.

I crave love
Yet I desire distance.

I need somebody.
Yet I hate everybody.

I want to swim.
Yet I let myself drown.

I misseth mine own loveth. I wisheth f'r h'r to beest in mine own arms. To has't the warmth of h'r corpse. H'r soft toucheth and coequal softer gazeth.

I feel like my hands aren't my own
My body is no longer my own
My steps are hollow
My movements too animated
I feel the tide turning in my head
The waves are breaking
And only causing chaos
Lawlessness and disarray
Anarchy and pandemonium
.....

It's calculated
I am realizing all too late I'm losing
Something is changing
A modification
A shift
A revision
I feel I'm operated by somebody else
Not me but a variant
A voice akin to my own
A parallel that has made it clear
It will either win or it will destroy me.

.....

No more black and white
No more good and bad
No more hero and villain.

.....

All alone, not really.

.....

May you remember me
For who I once was

.....

This disease
No
This sickness
No
This ailment
No
This disorder
No.

.....

I now have a liberator
Guardian
Rescuer
Preserver
Salvager even.

.....

He has been saved
What you call *******
Oppression or tyranny
Jurisdiction or dominion
Is deliverance
Emancipation or independence.

.....

I woke up today
My hands felt like my own
My steps were substantial
My movements absolute and genuine
My ocean tranquil and mute
And for now, I recite a cantilcle
Of bliss and appreciation
To no god in particular.