Square One

Oh how I miss the burn, the delight and the dimming of the inner cry that only the bottle, needle or the vial can bring. One moment you have it all at your feet, a comforting numb happiness that you understand only when its gone - snatched from your grasp by something totally out of your control
Who can you turn to? The world leans on you like a beggar against an ancient Roman pillar; and like the pillar you feel your insides turning to stone - the comfort in your numbness turns to black and white - the world around you fades to a grey backdrop and you are surrounded by the loneliness and silence that is deafening around you

"At first I thought my black and white world was beautiful"

Light slowly seeps from my world, the numbness aches in my hauntingly beautiful dreams that you visit. The red tinge to your spirit is the only other hue my world seems capable of expressing; I remain unsure as to weather it is a symbol of your ongoing suffering, a symbol of my love and yearning for you, or a symbol for my blood; the blood I wish so eagerly to spill to be reunited with you

"Now my world has evolved, personified. We dance around each other, appearing as a pair to the outside world, however in reality I am being consumed and manipulated like a puppet, my world is now my cage"

Now I try anything to free myself from the enclosure that is my reality and my dreams. My spirit stumbles along the journey like a crippled fighter, refusing to fall but awaiting for that final crippling blow that will push me to commit to the darkness consuming me. Bottles are drained, horrific thoughts and beliefs spill onto canvases of sight and sound, physically and metaphysically. I keep fighting the urge, yet awaiting the final blow to release me from my prison.

"Now we are one - I am consumed by my world, its desires are mine. Aimlessly I wander, longing for my imprisonment to end - but each thought of her face adds centuries to my already infinite sentence in this darkness. Not even the bright red that signifies the presence of your spirit can light my way forward. I remain stuck on square one"

Desperate I am to try to escape, to chase the light that seemingly exists at the end of the tunnel. But I cannot see it. I remain stuck in evenings with strangers, with many smiling friendly faces that I push away, introversion the only thing appealing to my battered spirit. I think back to when we were united in this somewhere. I long for the comfortable happiness I miss.
So honest and perfect
So pure and adored
No more

"At last I raise my glass - with an Hallelujah.
Hallelujah until I am nothing
Hallelujah until she is everywhere
Hallelujah until together we are somewhere beyond the first square." 

I move on alone - waiting for my next life to arrive and sweep me away from the persona of the pillar that remains like an ironic deformity in my being
In my next life I can drown in all the bottles, vials and powder I please - I will not be the strong one holding another's world up.
I will be the drunken beggar curled up at its base, pleading with anyone who will listen to free me from myself.
However even in the next life I can already see the stifling cruelty; nobody knows my history - they only see a helpless drunk stuck in his alcoholic prison. Stuck in his own depressing ways.
They cannot see me, begging to be dragged away from the pillar; begging for the thrust towards the light; begging to crawl out of square one.