The Scavenger

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And there were those days when not much happened; when there were no words nor expression, only sitting around waiting for something to show itself while open-mouthed and chasing shadows. Sometimes howling, and at others silent as I drowned the nights in alcohol. Pushing her head beneath the soapy water that filled the bath, I would’ve quite happily have done time to have erased her from my life, but you can’t cut out the one’s that hurt, you can only accept yourself and others and do your best to create new ways of being. All those abandoned hearts and cars; those buildings no more than rubble that once housed a love that outshone almost everything. There have been so many hours when I’ve wished for the heavens to open up and a godly hand to snatch me away, but such a luxury wasn’t meant for me. To think of those moments of dust where the world stopped turning with my eyes gazing only at blank walls. To think of those minutes where my breathing slowed down to a drawn-out and prolonged cry heard by no one except for the spiders that kept scuttling under the door and into my room. Incubation. Hibernation. Seasons of hell in between fleeting sensations of joy. Like a needle in the arm, they gave life, but the fallout has gnawed at my bones for years. It’s worn me down and peeled back my flesh leaving me stinking of carrion and itching at the shameful remains of being just another lover. But what’s done is done. Like a scavenger, I go back and feed on what tastes good. I revel in the pleasure and push my face into the pain when the words don’t come, but when the well runs dry, I let it be and return with my faith restored. Because no matter how hard we try and escape, we exist only in the present. No matter how much we look for inspiration and answers, we are chained to today, for today is all we will ever have.

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