Freewrite #24: Forsaken. So What?

Rising to higher states of mind,
While walking all around a city making me lose mine.
Poverty following me,
Like a reaper admonishing me for demolishing each demon keeping the Former alive…

Will the staircase to my ultimate success be built by bricks bulging out of my pocket?
Or,
The skeletons I leave behind when finally reaching the top in,
A heaven so many like me can see if we stick to the topic,
Of discussion.
Rebirth…

Can only speak for myself as I write my own revival to existence.
Over and over again.
Over and over again.
Lowered,
Inside of a room with my head in a page getting over the hits.
The black and the blue!
An abyss that was pulling me down with blunt truths…

I am what I am on a land in a spiral,
Same way I fell from grace back when I was drowning inside of liquor bottles.
The cheap kind,
For the cheap shots that I swallowed.
Why?
Well,
When you’re told to die inside a Glass House by others who reflect on your absence often,
You tend to adopt a different kind of model.
For a house I know I will cement brick by brick,
As a forsaken son taken up by Thy who keeps me hallowed…

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