suicide

Mind of a Junkie

The day passes by staring into oblivion, frozen in time, surrounded by ambiguous pool of thoughts. The only friend I have is my own reflection but sometimes I fight with it also.

Constantly trying to make some sense of the lines on my wrists and arms, if they are helpful enough to show me some sign or a way. Sitting with an empty head, shaking, sweating, mumbling and suddenly everything becomes blurred resisting the urges but the craving is enormous, even the preeminent gladiator would not be able to win this battle with my inner self.

Minutes becomes hours and hours becomes days as I continue to stare into darkness with a vivid imagination. The only peace I have is when I lay on the ground and hear the trumpet sounds because the pain is shifted into the background, this pain is the only thing that is real and the only feeling I have.

Broken, battered and bruised I walk; my eyes are red, staring at this big circular monument which I call it the circle of hope, trying to remember the merry days spent here but the state of insomnia ruins my merry memories as I recall them in parts. Some of the worldly treasures I have are the merry memories of the past which I call it my hidden treasure but now those are also fading away.

We are always changing with time and it’s a vital part of our lives and it can be anything, change in habits, friends, clothes, thoughts etc. I have also changed; a vital part of me has changed which are my past memories. Now it includes two needles, an arm band and some delusional thoughts which I have sometimes.

I hope this addiction doesn’t go away because this is the only reason I live for and to feed its growing need. Alive I feel, Alive……