REHAB

day 1...
I wonder through rooms
and into the common area
as if searching for her
dazed

She left me here so i could heal
the slight cut of my independence
meanwhile she tries to slit hers

But she doesn't know what i can do.

from out the ancient times of humanism's birth
i study alchemy

and then
use the lost art of transmutation
to pool her belongings and personal artifacts
and recreate her being
A complicated procedure
The ingredients must be precise
The process requires
bleeding one drop of your desperation
Cutting off two arms of independence
And you must pour in 2 quarts of addiction

I stand there
Watching the belongings and personal artifacts create her again
infront of me
my magic works!
I can see her!

and it's sad...

because I KNOW it isn't her
and never will be

When I touch her; SHE isn't there
When I speak; i don't hear HER voice

what is there
is an amalgamation of my imagination
and desperation
a mistake
I bow down
Squeezing tears out my palms
In realization that i'm at the edge of my addiction
i need help
i need to take advantage of this rehab...

but it's hard when her ghost torments me
Poking at my sight
It spins and confuses the words that exit my lips
and then sits back
laughing as they bump into strangers
snickering when they vomit on passerbys from dizziness