Thick white cloth presents itself in the form of a sundress
Now worn thin, ripped and dirtied dull, dusty and stained
Shiny blonde locks dangle in gentle waves
Now dyed black dead-ends split further day-by-day
Waves now lifeless brittle strands hang in knots against skin
Once so soft and well nourished with a glow so bright, you wouldn’t recognize the,
Now so dull and completely colourless if not for the bruises
Spread head to toe across the limited surface only skin and bones
Soft velvet wings so delicate and intricate, intriguing and eye capturing
Now torn with a rough surface of scars and old scabs thick with dried blood
Dainty feet once glided through luscious green grass
Now limps across broken glass and stakes leaving vicious wounds
Wounds so great they will never fully heal

I have an excessive build up of stored anxious energy,
That begs desperately for release,
But motivation won’t have it, and that is what holds the lock and the key.

Finally on a good path, one heading in the right direction

But my grip is becoming exhausted, I’m slipping

Back into old habits, back into a depression

Everyday becoming a re born struggle

Departing is simple enjoyment

Returning are cravings

Growing is the urge to satisfy

Climbing to tremendous heights is

My brain as it fails to dimmer before sleep

Even the tablets aren’t helping to keep my mind at ease

I’m scared of bad decisions I might make, ones that are quite probably


Going to become a reality

Why the **** can’t I stop playing this same track
Over and over,
Repeating a demonised past of thoughts
That inject my stomach with butterflies,
That scratch at my arms and legs like metal on a chalkboard,
That whoosh hot through my readily pumping blood
That results in nausea and tensed muscles.
A track that brings with it memory of a time
So thick with pain and too, confusion
That brings back memories of you,
Memories of then,
Memories of hurt,
Memories of destruction...

**So why does it feel so good to remember?
And why the **** do I kind of miss it?

Resurfacing,
Is the urge to run back
To a world of misery
To a world of destruction
To give up
To give in
To indulge in old bad habits
To hand over control
It would be so easy