The words feel empty
as you spit them out
again
Not the first time
you've whispered along
old rhymes
like a lullaby
but the feelings pour through.

They've soothed you before,
You hope they will again

Relapse.
It happens.
Sometimes it feels so good, the adrenaline rush for the adrenaline ******.
Sometimes you hate yourself more than you did before.
The sweet yet incriminating taste of relapse.
It happens.

Onwards
stomping against the tufts -
grass
older than me
The knots
of a time long passed
I walk down
I walk down

Stinging kiss
of a nettle leaf against
my knees; unprotected
I walk down
I walk down

Brambles tug
my hair and arms
but I am rewarded
with the crisp tartness
of a berry.

My handwriting
                                      is like a portmanteau of my parents'

I think it fits,

but sometimes

                                            I wish it was different.

I guess that's just the way things are.
But I can change.

Walking
the same trails as ever
But different now
They feel ancient
But the tarmac and paving says otherwise
So much is different now.