• James Robinson

In silent moments...



In silent moments...

Tracks left by dull needles speak to me of my pain.

I beat my spirit down with whips sharpened on secret self abuse

In silent moments I screamed the loudest hoping without faith that someone would know my pain

That an angel would appear and care for me more than I cared for myself

This was a journey through the hell of methamphetamine.

Shadow people became my common companions

Days without sleep brought them into existence on the edge of my consciousness

Until they entered rooms in full colors and clothes and shared their voices with me

This was a journey through the hell of methamphetamine.

Self imposed starvation without pain because this was part of the game

Night followed day, day followed night, over and over until time was a vague memory

This was a journey through the hell of methamphetamine.

In silent moments...

Tracks left by dull needles speak to me of my salvation.

- James Robinson


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