I was clean for a couple months, I'm not really sure how long, I stopped counting on things a while ago.
I'm not talking about drinking, *** or drugs, as i continue to indulge myself in those pleasures, but to a limit. I've never been one to lose myself at the bottom of a beer glass, or let ***** slink down my throat, although I do enjoy the feeling of warmth on my skin, it's soothing, for a change.
Alcohol is a reminder of him, No not a  break up or lost lover, I  wish it was as painless as that. It is more about abuse. The emotional and physical torture of him, how he laughed as his words slurred almost as quickly as my life faded and self harm became a sinister escape from this dooming thing we call, reality.
I thought I was okay. The doctors said I was, that's why they let me leave on the condition of pills but I felt useless having to rely on a smile in a bottle to make me feel, nothing, because I felt too much, at least that's what the nurses said. They wanted me to feel numb, so I did. I let the colour from my paintings disappear with salty tears and the dance in my soul snap,
I became grey in a black and white world, I didn't belong in.
So I stopped taking them and maybe that was the critical error in this sequence, but it felt so good to breathe for once. I could feel crisp air in my blackening lungs and as oxygen seeped it's way through my wilting body, I began to grow petals.
Only I'm not a flower nor a beauty, quite frankly I see myself as the opposite. I'm more like the watering can that feeds my friends and those around me, I guess I cut pieces of me apart in order to give it to others but that's what feeling alone does to you.

It's taken six years and a lifetime of strength to battle these demons that use my happiness to feed on. I pushed away the feelings of before, I tried to ignore, but I failed. I was told to reach out to someone before I let the blades touch me so I tried but I was ignored. Acid tears fell from my dimming blue eyes and without hesitation blades returned and ripped my pale skin, pale in colour and life. I'm told I see beauty in everyone, but never in myself and perhaps that's why the Crimson red looked beautiful on my canvas because there was colour on me. I felt alone and the shiver to my bones but I was found.
Perhaps it's a sign that I should try this living thing, one more time.

I don't want to be a speck in this ocean of humanity.
I don't want my words to be so small and obscure that even the keenest ear, still, cannot hear.
I don't want to be tossed and kicked and shoved about, like the speck I fear I am.
The speck that floats & sweeps and glides & sighs - the speck that will never be examined.

I breathe.
I live.
I mean.
I am.

I don't want to be invisible.

---

The world is one big bustle after another - people pushing and shoving, only to sleep and repeat?

I am the one you bumped into, in a race to catch the nooner to downtown Detroit.
I am the girl you stumbled past, in your rush to catch another cab.

I am the flower ******* McKenzie who sold you more marigolds.
The waitress at PJ's who asked, "More cream?"
The cashier at Aldi's who bagged your Arizona.

I am that ticket taker at Cinemark who gave you your stub and genuinely hoped you would enjoy your movie.

I am the girl you're seated by, right now.
This instant.

So close, you can hear her soft breaths;
So close, you can nearly smell her perfume;
So close, and still...
You stand.

You gather your things, get off the train, and run off to catch another, what?
Bus? Plane? Cab?

You're gone.
And, I'm here.
And, I'm still the girl;

The girl who might have been your soulmate.
But, you traded me for 15 minutes of silence and a bed you'd sleep in alone.

---

I don't want to be a speck in this ocean that is your world.
I want to be a boulder.

I want to mean something,
And be something,
And exist to you.

So, STOP.
I'm here.


"Hello."

Sorry, I have to go.

                                             - Why?

It's calling me.

                                             - Who?

Life.

Would you come with me to a lonely island?
Where we can be us.
Without remembering the civilisation?
Where we can live.
Without worries.

Would you come with me? I would be your sailor, if you can't swim.