Vulnerabilities

Shove my expression back into the dark recesses of my dungeon, where my memories stain the walls of the rough years

Into the abyss where demons came to torment the child you threw into hell, expecting me to burn, to die a living death

Were you suprised when bones started piling up in your pristine, white picketed fenced yard...

Were you afraid of what prying eyes would say about the blood splatter I sprayed all over your first prize rose bushes & perfect little house, as I slaughtered every demon sent my way?

Did I shock you when I climbed out the crevice in the cracked concrete

that formed after I rumbled with the devil...

and won?

Who am I referring to in my narrative, in this script, ooh yeah, it'll satisfy your crave for gossip if I named the links of my shackles,

wouldn't it?

Maybe it's a she, maybe a he, maybe an institution, maybe a flawed system of a decaying society, maybe it's myself,

maybe it's you

Take your tissues and just leave em there on the table, I'll take one when I'm ready

Not just cause you're uncomfortable with my vulnerabilities and raw emotions 

stop trying to fix me, I'm not broken

(a little chipped and scarred)

I don't need rescuing, I'm already in a better place

My past doesn't define me, yeah it has shaped some of my quirks and defective coping mechanisms...

but I am the warrior I am

I am happier with who that is

for today

freeflowpoet

Addict's demise

A finger snuffing out a flame

one door slams shut, the window another way in

skin torn as you worm through the intact glass

Eyes fail to adjust in the night

cause you're so used to the darkness of depression's veil, second nature this bitter slashing cold rain

There's no sunshine in this place

I hear the taste in every word that contorts from that void deep where a flower once bloomed

the stench of desperation drips from your pin prick irises

Hands of zombie decay, dollars crumble as the bubbles form and swirl with the steel sting

mixing up again

Searching for a way out

searching for a temporary escape from the purtory of living death

just searching for life

but it's a black widow's dance...

and the antidote's just out of reach

freeflowpoet