Pressure Rising

A great poem, the relief washes over you as you read.

Gripping Black

132 beats per minute.

It wasn’t a rush
an uncomfortable ache better describes it
a dizzy fall
blackened eyesight
dangerous sways and glassy eyes
cold sweat
the shakes.

…this how drug addicts relapse
The thought flashes temporarily
through my already foggy brain space
and I sit head down, breathing hard,
ignoring the tightening in my arm and chest.

I cried today.
Silent tears staining my face, running and rushing and blinding. Hot, wet, abundant.

I cried today.
I haven’t in awhile and it scared me, not because I fear emotions, but because the reason behind the action was a tumbling, bumbling bunch of confusion.

I cried today.
It was the best release I experienced in ages and I figured the stares in the taxi were welcome for I could feel and I was still real and human and hurting and aching and welcoming the pain;
for it meant I still cared.


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