Theatre of pain

I’ve know this road. I’ve been down it before. It is hard to traverse and it is hard to carry on.  A lot of people like to look back at their lives on New Year’s eve but for me it only adds to the sorrow in my soul.  Ive said to myself and others before that if we didn’t have bad days we wouldn’t know when to be thankful for the good ones.
I had many a good day in my 25th year but I cant help but remember how many bad ones I had too.  The bad swallows the good.
I lie in physical pain as my body reacts to the drug withdrawal. It occupies the seats on my passenger train of thoughts and I struggle to relax enough for sleep. I know I will be free of it someday but for now I wish it would go away.
I lose ground in my belief that this war within will be over in 6 months when I feel as physically sick as I do. I should probably be more realistic in my estimation. 6 months to let your brain, liver, and lymph system recover after you’ve poisoned it for 8.5 years probably isn’t enough time.
I know this road. I’ve been down it before. One foot in front of the other.

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