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Reflections, Truth, Hope.

This is why I do this, the battle of a shattered mind now entwined by two for the scares are too deep to settle the fractured bones of the past life he walks from.

Writing is the escape, to see it written down, to help understand the battle whilst still floating amongst the swans on the river.

The drugs relax the mind and chase the demons away, but the after effect after too much snorting is too much for them to handle.
When it comes he gets rowdy, setting fire to the bridges they built together, sitting in the darkness alone watching the flames engulf structures she built, watching them come crashing down.

The pain is so welcoming for its in his blood.
The depression is too hard to stay away from for it captures there beauty and paints it black.

It's not always like this but the struggle does survive the light of day.

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