Poetry
A return to reality, inevitable
The momentary glee, forgotten
Dried ink, taunting my soul
My will lost, to an empty cause
An escape; an imprisonment.
At a time of worst, a savior had come
Not superficial, for the pieces were vital
Preventing my veins from constricting
Providing a hope, stolen by life
Understanding was written; confusion concealed.
Critical acclaim, had I garnered none
My commitment was to deny sorrow
The darkness within, had I shone out
A fake smile, affording truth
A heart that had beat only to maintain, relishing continuity.
Paths forward inspired, a future brightened
The hurt to myself, released to its time
Regrets buried, under words of grace
The phenomenon of forgiveness, steadier
An addict's reprieve, offered through lines.
Reading a sore nostalgia, rejuvenating wounds
The person I have become, an enigma to myself
Some days compassionate, others cold
Some brilliant, others infantile
Pride I cannot conceive, but poetry does relieve.
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