Guilt

Overwhelmed. 

The fire is so hot breath is stolen away.

This is not passion.

Suffocation.

The burden of the situation is burned in the mind, leaving a black footprint.

Still, invisible. 

Hidden.

The responsibility to do no harm is stronger than any fantasy of comfort.

Fantasy.

Dream.

Wish.

Unresolved desire.

No request.

Entered unbidden.

Rude.

Please knock next time.

Request ignored.

This war could so easily be won if mind and body and soul would concede one to another.

If what?

How dare you?

To believe in such fairy tales that wear the sheep’s clothing also known as “quick fix”.

Vulgar.

Fix.

This is no addiction.

Delusion.

The pain glows like nails under the skin. The blood trickles, clear, not shockingly red. The only solution, makes sense, how else does no one see?

Ask.

Help.

Reach out.

Hands extend.

Nothing. Darkness. They let me fall. They can do no more. Their eyes are blind. Their lying eyes.

Failed.

Never.

Ask.

Again.

Never.

Burden.

Again.

Free. Free. So nearly free.

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