Thirty Days

“My dear,
Find what you love and let it kill you.
Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness.
Let it kill you and let it devour your remains.
For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover.
~ Falsely yours”
Charles Bukowski

I found heroin at a very lonely time, unsure of who I was, what I wanted or where I was headed. The sedating euphoria scooped me up, like a limp starving immobile puppy on the floor now alive; it gave me energy, refreshed my soul and embodied me with a renewed strength from a hopeless spirit. A soul-mate like perfect match, I wanted it forever, all to myself. No one could hurt me. No one could let me down. No one could disappoint me. And yet no one could save me. No one could protect me. No one could love me.

I had to surrender. Thirty days ago once more. I no longer want to be a zombie.  Real love awaits me on team sobriety. 2475011402_bf70c92575_o.jpg


inbetweenrealityillusion View All →

I am a 24 year recovering alcoholic from New York City with Boderline Personality Disorder.

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