She stood boldly, my hands wrapped around her hips
You did not come here for my love, now have you? But for an unstable fix
Seducing me as she spoke, with her pungently amber lips
I leaned forward mid-sentence, and indulged in her poisonous kiss

Each time I put down my guitar,
I feel as if get a bit better at it;
and each time I pick it up once more
I notice my subtle yet very real progress;
and, who knows; one of these days,
I may just get good at it!

I mean not to downplay
my musical accomplishments,
I simply seek only to try to convey
that I feel one of my greatest accomplishments
lies in the realization of a true Path:
to keep on practicing;
to keep on studying;
of my own accord
and in the process
not seeking to be good,
but seeking only to improve.

Hoping all the while
that my invested time
will one day bear fruit;
time already feels
as if it is ripening before me;
as if it is ripening for me.

The Future is pregnant with potential.
The Future always begins Now.

I think back to when everything was simple, when he was alive and we were all whole but then he broke us and we never fit back together.
Life used to be carefree tentative smiles and excitement over coffee shops and we all had so much potential and drugs were the plastic bottles in our bathrooms, taken with caution.
I think of how many friends i used to have, and how everything has been superficial since we all put ourselves in plastic boxes on unreachable shelves
These days I have no motivation and I want to see the sun. Happiness is as fleeting as the snow on the ground before the wind sweeps it up high above he trees.
I used to be the snow, and I didn't care where I landed. That's why I wasn't very surprised when he took advantage of my innocence and unstable hold on reality. But that doesn't mean that sometimes I don't still shudder when people come near me, or wonder if I look broken to them.
I see him in school and I remember his eyes, innocent, as they ask for forgiveness, and I didn't have the heart to tell him that he had taken the last thing that meant anything to me, or that he was the last straw when I made that fateful decision last year, or that I STILL wake up gasping from having nightmares starring him, or that he causes me to stay up late into the night feeling completely alone. That he stole my already feeble ability to say "no." But I'm wiser now, so I forgave him even though his arms felt like needle ****** when he hugged me.
Recovery is long, and some might say I'm not recovered at all. It's been a year but I still think about death every day. I'm in love, but I hate myself every second I'm not with him. But none of that matters, because now I know that I will always choose pain over oblivion.
I've found a delicate balance that can be destroyed by one gust of wind, but I'm trying to be better, and that's more than I've ever been able to say.
I don't want to say that a song saved my life but the song is his voice when he tells me he loves me, and the screams in my head when I don't want to continue, because at least I know I'm alive.
Sometimes I miss the people who have left me and the girl I used to be, but it's over now, and it's best not to dwell on things that I can never change. Because recovery isn't the number of days passed, but allowing time to heal you.
It's allowing yourself to feel better, because only you can give yourself that permission. It's learning to love yourself, and to accept everything in stride. But most of all, recovery is forgiveness.
Forgiving others for what they've done to you, but more importantly yourself, in any condition, the way the shore forgives the tide which leaves but always comes back for more, because the ocean loves the sand more than we can comprehend, and that's how we should all love ourselves: unconditionally and during all weather.