Vices
When I’m there I inhabit every corner of the sky
because that’s where my sadness goes to die.
Where all of my darkness turns to light,
the problems, so far, they seem out of sight.
I taste what love could do to me;
what once imprisoned me now has me freed.
There’s peace in my head, I take it to bed
I see other colours, not just grey and red.
Yet, why it is true that I’m not so blue as I’m bathing in the midnight gleam,
the next day, I notice a change, a grim disarray, it’s a slope that I’ve already seen.
My stomach sits empty way past twelve,
self hatred trickles in, quickly fills the shelves
that clutter my mind, line by line,
that merge into one, and stop all of my fun when they block all the light, with all of their might.
I feel myself ache, with each promise I break
when I find myself back with the stars.
But what do you do when the one thing you chase is the king of all of your scars?
Someone once said that we all have our vices
but should these vices be inviting pure crisis
when you look in the mirror should it be the case
that you find your old self to have been erased?
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