Cotton Candy Cigarettes
The burning embers of the sweet treat
Morning spark, radiating smell
Glowing memories of heart break, late night with friends, and of course the innocent "just one" on forth of July
Succulent smog
Breathing in worries and letting out the feeling of hakuna matata
Sticky smelly fingers
The brown syrup still clings on to the tips of my hands just as a reminder of the addictive sugar
The sweet start of cotton candy dependence

Click click click goes the lighter

I stare at my beautiful back bone as she breaks a part

She takes her poison just the way I taught her

But is time with her new lighter

Click click click

Tears run down her soft face

Click



Her nervous tick gets slower

No please keep going

When she clicks the lighter at least her mind is on something else

Just for that split second

Look forward, only a little longer

Why can't I help you like you helped me

I want to hear you trucking on strong




Click click click

That's better

Time heals everything
Hate turns to love
To realize you had something
Time turns a gun to a dove

I'm sorry's are pushed away
Even though you want it more than anything on earth
Apologies are full of grey
I'm sorry's no longer have any worth

I was compared to a simple, deadly car crash
Was told life could be a ride
Until I caused that bash
I was compared with a metaphor with very little pride

I took those five jobs
Chose work over love
I mimicked those  snobs
I took that money thinking I was above

What I thought I had is gone
But there is always hope
Love is not something to pawn
What I thought I had had now left me to mope

It is complicated
Not even that
My mistakes made me isolated
I went from oxygen to gnat

I am from hair ties, but no longer rely on them, from conditioner bottles but no longer need them, from dance mirrors that let me watch others make mistakes so I would not repeat them

I am from the same town and house I grew up in

I am from people pleasing

From taking their opinion over my own

I am from addiction, from the twelve steps, and sickness

I am from the questions why and how

I am from three years sober, and from I love you

From hard work over happiness, and family over pride

I am from the Catholic Church, even though I don't agree, rosaries and Hail Maries, are what my family brought me up to be

I am from whiskey lullabies, from watching my hero drink away trust and hit rock bottom

I am from forgiveness and letting go, to watch my Mufasa come back stronger and brighter

I am from writing, from discoveries, and not letting anybody get in the way of my goal

I am from the church, but no longer rely on it, from my parents but no longer need them, from alcoholism that let me watch others make mistakes so I would not repeat them

Tick tick
The clock goes tick
Those ticks make me twich
My nails I pick

Time pulls me out of the real
Each tick makes it hard to deal
Anxiety I feel
My nails I peal

Slipping power
I fall off my tower
Pressure building this hour
My nails fall like petals from a flower

My mind wants to race
But the ticks go at a steady pace
Stress I have to face
My nails are gone leaving no trace

Each mistake runs through my brain
Each leaving a unique stain
Hard to express the internal pain
My short, clean nails make me sane