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.