addicted to relapse

It’s get harder and harder to stay on the path.

Addicted to relapse.

Feeling sorry for myself.

Distracting myself with my own excuses. Starting from scratch.

Day one shit. It’s nothing to be proud. It is not romantic. It is not sexy. It’s shameful, disquiet, humiliating, embarrassing, painful as fuck.

I go around and around and around this vortex Bermuda triangle of disgust, shame, degradation.

This is my home where I’m most comfortable my safe space my damnation. My hell and daily torture.

I don’t like this I never did. I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to quit. I don’t want to stop. But I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep telling myself it’s okay. I’ll start tomorrow. The demons in my head confuse me, trick me, seduce me.

Tell me destroy today redeem tomorrow.

Leave my head. Get the fuck outta here. I have to expel this demon every single day. It’s never going to end. There is no victory. There’s only you and me, in the mourning, afternoon and night. If I got to shove this middle finger, down your fucking throat and kill you every single fucking day, then that’s exactly what I’m going to gonna fucking do.

You had me for a second there. You had me for a second. See my ego wants me to think it’s on my side but it only serves itself. It only wants what it wants. It’s never satiated. It’s never satisfied. It’s never fed. It’s a black hole. There’s no mystery. There’s no mystique to what’s on the other side. Only guilt and anger and regret. That same old shit.

The never ending rot.

I’m fucking sick and tired of it. Break the cycle, break the pattern. Create a new current a new flow. It ain’t over for me.

I’m still a baby with a second chance with everything I learned the memories on the surface behind my eyes, reminding me, protecting me, elevating me thanking me.