I was barren A deserted landscape Full of papercuts from my house of cards And a tree with no more leaves I would watch the earth crack And pick at the places where the ground split Until I was isolated I couldn't move All I could do was think A task best done when morale is not so low I was addicted to feeling pain Pain that I could measure and prescribe myself I self medicated with insults and inhalants Mockery and mutalation Addicted to my meds is what I became So addicted to sadness I never wanted it to leave
But here I am Clean and cultivating The fruit that My new land has produced And now I feel good Mind and heart content I can finally love you
Long title, haven't done one of those in a while. This is just another poem about some stuffs.