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.