loss of appetites

born soul on fire,
most will never understand
call it plague
call it blessing
even I can’t comprehend

it’s every incarnations
resurrected twisted form
call it foreign
call it familiar
from life extracted, not rebourne

incandescent soul undaunted
scorched desire still to shine
call it art
call it addiction
bring to life my cluttered mind

unique not in my cravings
by yearnings still condemned
call them drugs
call them lovers
same obsession in the end

freed from such compulsions
now enslaved in my own head
call it manic
call it phobic
loss of appetites dual edge

secluded from the real world
in abstention freedom’s found?
call it heaven
call it hell
it’s just where I am now

Prompt courtesy of MLMM Sunday Writing Prompt- Recovery

Shared on Promote Yourself Monday on Go Dog Go Café

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17 thoughts on “loss of appetites

  1. Yes, Violet, it makes sense. The poem works in conveying the numbness really well; living numb, though, is not really living. I get it.

    Left you a comment re: the chain story thingy. Let me know what’s what. Thanks.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh my goodness….”call them drugs call them lovers same obsession in the end” you have put into words the 3 a.m., wake up, never felt so alone and yet know there are others awake feeling the same thing moments. Words, poems, sharing…….thank you.

    Liked by 2 people

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