Road Map To Recovery
The time has come where
I no longer long to mark
where my mind has gone
upon my wrists.
The time has come where
I no longer have to fight
between the demons in
my head and the ones
in the forms of friends.
I once wished that the road
maps upon my arms would
lead to a beautiful destination,
one like true happiness.
Instead, it felt as if no
matter how hard I tried to
carve a new path it led me
to blue viens and crimson
red lines that were drawn before.
So when something bad happened
and my first thought wasn't
to try finding a new escape route,
I knew I had managed to free
myself from the sadness that
once consumed my mind.
This isn't to say that my
mind does not attempt to travel
down the old paths from before.
This isn't to say that I don't veer
off course sometimes.
Now, when my instinct is to
have red blood follow my path
to a dead-end, I lightly run
my fingers along the scarred paths
that had failed me and I
remember my way to recovery.
My way to a better life.
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