Six months to overcome an addiction. One week to go.



Sometimes the first cut really is the deepest

The blood is redder, more vibrant, gushing

The pain is more bitter and raw 

And then after more cuts follow

Cut after cut after cut after cut

Once previous tender flesh 

Is scarred over and over again

And when taking the time

To stop and notice 

There is no more pain.


I was addicted
To a love that never was
Waiting for your touch
Craving each discarded crumb
My highs and lows diverting pain
The rejection I feared with all my soul
Rejection I forced into being
The rejection that finally gave way
To peace
To me
To the deep well of love
The love inside of me

Glass Bomb

I bottled inside of me

My anger and rage 

The pressure built up 

As I tightened the grip

Tighter and tighter 

I held the glass bomb

My hands were at risk 

My arms, face, my life 

I closed my eyes 

I prayed in the still 

Seconds ticked by

My heart counted time.