Twisted shadows
Stain her eyes
Feet buried
In a satin hole
Hands doing shots
Of numbness
Rusting guts
No more triggers
No more tears
No more fixes
Night falls
A gauzy blur
As eyelids
Fall shut
To glimmers
Of light
Sprouting
As if rooted
In glitter
A reminder
You hold a life
To not fuck it up
It’s not too late
To wake up
And try yet again
NOTE:
I know from experience what life feels like when we start to cope in harmful ways. When we want to escape and jump on the merry go round of self destruction and self sabotage. Part of us really wants to fight but each time we escape that part gets weaker and weaker.
I’m lucky I was able to get help before it was too late. I get good sleep. I got sober. I learned better ways to communicate. Feed the fighter inside you.
HASTYWORDS 
It is so true, that there is no such thing as Too Late short of that last eternal sleep.
Hasty, when I saw the title, my first thought was of you and Byron, and love found when no longer young.
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I love you thought of us. I honestly never ever expected to find my soulmate after the years I spent trying to be the right person for someone else.
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Isn’t it strange, and often wonderful what happens when we finally get around to being the right person for ourself instead to trying to be for somebody else.
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It’s just really good to find someone who is happy to let you find yourself as you go because we are all becoming someone new all the time. We can grow together honestly or we can pretend to go along or we can drag someone with us. I know which I have chosen and I’m so happy to have done so.
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It is happy making to see.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
HASTY – With each morning, a chance for change
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