Note: There should a rehab center, or a clinic somewhere, for people who are tryna recover from love, or shit that even remotely resembles love. I'd be there every week, sittin' in that circle of chairs, with a whole bunch of damn strangers who are tryna recover from it, too. Hell, they have it for all the other addictions: drugs, drank, even sex, but not love. Wassup with that???
It grabbed me outta nowhere, penetrated my veins, cruised through my soul, and exited freely, but not without a trace. On the surface, things may have appeared to be the same, but look closer, and it's marks are written all over my face.That smile I used to carry is now replaced by a scowl; if someone tries to reinforce that they're sincere, it'll give me even more reason to believe they're being foul. They attempt to speak to me, with no hints, of tryna run game. Yet, due to my own hurt and self-pity, I'll brush 'em off, and tell 'em "you can't fool me. All of you are exactly the same."
But thinking like this only leads to more pain, more anguish, and more grief. It's time to rid myself of this feeling, and get some much-needed relief. Gotta check in, lay in that bed, strap up, and rid myself of this poison the best way I can, and come out refreshed and re-juvenated...and feelin' like a brand-new man.
1/8/07 @ 1:41 A.M.
Photo by Clifton Henri
2 comments:
This is my first time coming to your site and I just wanted to say I really enjoyed reading these posts. They are so on point and I could really capture the emotions in them.
Love....Medicine or Poison?
a question that remains unanswered!
as always in awe of your words!
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