A stand alone poem about my addiction.
TW: addiction
No longer human
Addiction made me feel alive in the beginning, it was a unique state of happiness for when life wasn't enough.
It was beautiful the way it made me feel, unlike anything on this earth, the euphoria was immeasurable.
But when the addict says he wishes he never started it's because nothing compares.
Nothing compares to what the bottle or bag can fill me with.
That's where the problem comes in, because life's not the same when nothing is a worthy comparison to what you have found.
And soon the bright and shiny fades into dust.
What used to leave you feeling elated is what you do to feel normal when you wake up in the morning.
It's nothing special anymore, it becomes something you always reach for.
When this is outlined to me, when this realization casts its shadow onto the sidewalk I know it's time to stop.
I tried to, and I will keep trying to, but I am crushed by feeling hollow.
I want to get the first time back more than anything I've ever desired but taking more won't get me there.
I feel as if I have lost my humanity.
I am nothing more than a desperate want to fill the hole.
The numbness is suffocating.
The hole in my chest aches.
I am exhausted and constantly craving what I will not find.
I told myself it would be one more time, just one more time, I did what I did and I am still void of all that makes one human.
The thought of doing it just another time after this is dripping into my Consciousness.
It wouldn't be one more time, it would not satisfy my appetite, but a part of me is convinced it would.
This aches, knowing that the only way to return to baseline is to wait.
I have found myself wanting to commit suicide. I know that this sense of the endless and nameless will be over one day, but it hurts knowing I will bite my hand until it bleeds to get there.
That's all it is really, digging your teeth into your skin until you feel the metallic taste fill your mouth.
I try to push myself to think about something, anything else, but it seems this is the only thing I could write about.
I was never in denial about being an addict, but this I was blind to.
I never thought I'd want to kill myself like this ever again, and years ago I really believed I would remain sober.
But when do things ever go as planned?
YOU ARE READING
Candlelit midnights
PoesíaA poetry book written during a darker time in my life, covering topics like addiction and relapse along with happy and romantic moments. Although the original title was different I choose this title to represent how writing was a light in the dark...
