Addicted

I am an addict in many ways. I love the addiction, obsession, the overuse which hides me from my world of self-inflicted pain.

Books have fallen into such a category. The internet...certain unexplored corners....

In an effort to hold my heart in place. In an effort to keep this knife against the cutting board away from my chest, I stay on too long..sleep a little less....keep this mind occupied on everything else a little longer. Take more time than is necessary on the unnecessary, overload on that which is heavy....read novels, online blogs, IMing with persons I care not about, use farmville as a pathetic excuse of distraction and when it isn't enough double it with other facebook activities, yahoo, gmail, google, hotmail, aim, wikipedia and now blogger.

What am I really doing with these? Nothing but trying to keep you away, when you've never been near. Trying to hold your voice out at sea and your smile in its depth. Because the truth is I don't know you and I find it harder to understand how I could allow myslef to fall, tangle and interweave you into who I was over five years.

I could have had a full life if I'd turned away before. But here I am trying to get away from that perfect image of you residing within and without my walls of sanity.

Shazi C
I will be free