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clean and cut open
sober now,
and every second screams louder than the last.
the silence i begged for
now drips like acid through my spine.
when i was high,
the world floated —
hazy, dull-edged,
a soft lie i could breathe in.
without choking on memory.
without shaking from truth.
but now i wake up
to light too sharp for eyes that have seen too much,
and sleep with shadows that whisper
every name i try to forget.
they say this is healing.
they say pain is proof i'm alive.
but if this is life —
raw, bleeding,
a wound i carry like a badge —
then maybe i liked dying better.
i miss the numbness.
i miss the nothing.
it was kinder
than this endless parade
of remembering
everything
i ever did
just to feel okay.
Copyright ©
Madison Power
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