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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