You live,
smoking away the whispers
that scratch among your
shadowed walls.
Breathing in the burnt ash,
feeling what is no longer you–
living within an altered reality,
becoming a half you–
a you that can no longer be
you.
And I watched,
admiring the tranquility I saw you obtain
for once–
silencing a pounding darkness you fear
will consume you.
I watched.
But I began to witness a state
you never wished to exit–
a reality that made you
succumb to a substance
day after day until
you were a perpetual half life
who believed himself whole.
A brain tricked by the lies of
logic slanted through intoxication
and ensured by the devil beckoning
from within,
clothed in a glowing gown–
promising answers and euphoria that
dissipates once your feet finally touch
the ground
and sobriety claims your weakenend frame once more.
And while you feel empty
because the gleaming man swore,
you fill the trench
growing wider and more barren
each day–
blowing your little heart into an oblivion
where the gleaming man tells the
truth
and being half a man
feels fulfilled.
You left–
and I could only stand
with empty palms,
staring as you sang your demons to
sleep
only to lie among the ones
you were breeding all along.
A half life.
A curse life.
A life I’ll mourn out of your sight,
for I could no longer stand to watch.
