I told myself no more.
Stop reaching for the poison.
Like a child, ignorance took over
And the poison was once again
Back in my little hands.
~
Grow three sizes and the same message,
"No more."
However, my lanky fingers brush the poison
But retreat.
My mind reminds me of this distant memory.
The poison that hurts
Burns
Stings
Numbs.
My mind will forever remember the poison.
The difference between
Now and
Then, though
Is it remains a lesson learned
Rather than a lesson taught.
~
It's never my fault when I reach for the poison
The overdone bottle pulls me in
As it does for everyone else.
But it's contents,
It's contents are dangerous.
A lesson sadly most people have to learn.
They don't want to, but they do.
~
Here's the catch, though.
Why does it feel like now
I am the poison?
