ADDICTIONS AND AFFLICTIONS

ADDICTIONS AND AFFLICTIONS

Sinister were my addictions,

Weary am I from my afflictions,

I sit here picking scabs that never heal,

Self-mutilations to know that I’m real,

Let the wounds bleed,

To taste it I need,

My apologies if I take this too far,

But it’s time you see my every scar,

I am reminded of my faults and flaws,

Each time the crow cackles and caws,

Half my life I spent quietly pursuing my ways,

Few knew the depths of Hell to which I strayed,

A dual diagnosis they tell me,

One feeding the other you see,

A symbiotic relationship out to kill,

Yet I lived only for the thrill,

No one could make me quit,

I heard enough of their bullshit,

I had the right to self-medicate,

If you had these nightmares you too would relate,

Terrors of the mind that never go away,

Regardless of the time of day,

Then a fateful autumn morn I lay dead,

From the cataclysm that erupted the night before in my head,

Then they brought me back to life upon that table,

I saw myself crash, I heard the silence… How were they able?

It took some time,

But that morning a change struck my mind,

That was my wake up call to quit the absurd,

The writing was on the wall, and I’ve read every word,

Now I sit here pathetically unable to sleep,

I suppose it’s my price to pay for the years I caused so many to weep,

I still pick the scabs to see if I’m alive,

Self-mutilation and sleepless nights for I do not strive,

But it is far better than the raping of my soul,

And letting my addictions and afflictions have control,

Maybe there is a lesson somewhere in these words,

I’ve learned mine, now see if you find yours.

-brad