The pain is real. The fear is real.
Fear of the unknown and fear of failure.
What will happen if I do this, what will be the reason if I choose that? I’m afraid now that the consequences are real. Years have gone by, and the failures have become more intense. I have tried this before and failed so miserably that tears gave way to cold dissociation.
Loss of everything. Loss of willpower, and a craven emptiness that feels like a deep dive and fall into more emptiness.
Yet the hole never bottoms out.
This is utter shame, and it hurts so much just to open my eyes.
Heavy to breathe my walk is sullen.
Head heavy, and arms stoned.
Everyday.
Hope is difficult to find at this stage, but I’m forced to move on.
Everyday.
There’s still a voice in me that says it might be fine, it might be fine to try again.
Lo’ a strong shattered man is cut to pieces and still stands up bleeding until the shit clots and dries.
Then walk on cuz’.
Battle rows again.
I’m that guy.
Cut to shreds, and still crying when I walk ahead.
I’m weak and feel cold, but I have to be strong.
Bleeding sure hurts, but fuck it, shit will clot and dry.
I’ll brush it off. I’ll brush off the fear.
Shame.
Tears.
Just walk.
Cuz’ Shame is not Me.
I have to keep on walking forward,
Cuz’ my moment begins now.
I’ve decided to make a change today.
Fire.
I’ll burn off those cuts while still raw with a molten metal pole, and will lick off my own blood to heal all wounds that I can.
Painful.
I’m moving on, staggering one step at a time.
An uphill struggle, one pedal at a time.
Cycling, cos’ my life depends on it still.
Cuz’ honest to myself, cos’ gear for the soul is all I have.
Word.
Oh.
Please.
My day began now, all over again today for me to live the ‘inninth time.
The third, the sixth and the ninth,
Look at me now, and dare my face to survive.
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