I see your flaws
Your sadness
Your past
Your problems
Your situation
The damage you’ve done
The hearts you broke
The pain you caused
The bridges you burned
The lies you told

I still love you though
That’s what love is
I forgive you… always
In spite of the pain I feel

At least he’s eating lunch today.
Scrambled-egg-sandwich smell of telling me to worry less—
I never do.
“I can’t do anything”
“My mind is gone”
I suppose life is splitting through your bones,
But don’t worry,
Spatula in hand,
waving fates away like flies amongst an endless strain of pain,
He tries to stand
Against the demons eating him
Away.
But hey,
At least he’s eating lunch today.

If I confess my secret sins to the wind
Will they come back to haunt me?
When the storm clouds come rolling in
Will I hear once more the horrible truths I said?

“Maybe” said the wind “but you’ll finally be free
once the rains wash them away for good”

I’m choosing our love
It’s not easy

My heart hurts like hell
It beats like thunder

I don’t know how we got so broken
Years of not giving enough

I’m sorry for all the parts I played
I hope we can fix this

I'm sinking
Trying so hard to stay afloat
I'm thinking
Where can I find a lifeboat
I'm dreaming
Of a place far away
I'm drowning
Can I ever be saved

I'm running
To the place in my dreams
I'm hiding
From the monster inside of me
I'm slowing
The fog is catching me
I'm swimming
Trying so hard to stay afloat

I'm trying
Trying to find a better me

Relapse
It's a word that keeps coming up.
Get it?! Keeps coming up?
It's something that makes us think of substances and addiction.
A narrow view of a massive crisis.
As it festers and grows, you ignore it.
It spins webs that sew into you until more fiber is relapse than progress.
Eventually leading you to the same place it always does.
A self fabricated wall with no ropes, ladders or shovels to aid in moving past the barrier.
Spanning to a wider view you'll find that relapse is a state of mind.
Toward the diet, the feeling, the mood, the bad habit, the obsession, the perspective or the substance.
Though it is a repeated journey attempting to best tbe barrier via the same path is a path to nowhere.
Be creative, be different, be confident, find the energy and want to change.
That is the path away from misery and repetition.

I pick and poke
and **** for meaning
and find it on shelves,
in the broken dashboard
of my old car,
and in the pain of glaring
directly at the sun.
In doubling up on ramen packs
and drinking Corona past 10pm
because I’m drifting.
In swiping left and right
in search of something
I’m not sure I want or need.
In searching for meaning where, sometimes, there is none.
I pick and poke and ****
to find a reason to care.