poetry for the poetic: 5

XCV

i found other ways to fill myself up when you left. at first, it was alcohol and drugs and one-night stands. it was driving fast and smoking cigarettes until my lungs caught fire. it was coming home at 2 a.m. crying, wondering how the hell i am going to survive this. but slowly, it became nights out with my good friends. it became ice cream and talking to my mom and exercising and being on time for my therapist appointments. it became picking myself off the ground and shaking the dirt off. at some point, it turned from self-destruction to healing. and healing was worth it. it always will be.