Addiction is my favourite colours, set ablaze with an intensity so seductive that I can’t resist them.
Addiction is my favourite shape, drawing me in and spinning me around, with wonder, awe, inspiration, until it spits me out on the floor disoriented and lost, not knowing which way is up or down.
Addiction is an unkept promise, luring me in with its wily ways, telling me it will be different this time.
Addiction is my deepest desire, ever so slightly skewed so I can’t tell the true from the false.
Addiction is the best illusion I have ever seen, looking like one thing and being another.
Addiction is everything I ever want wrapped up in the most exquisite packaging, yet when I unwrap it, there is nothing there.
Addiction is so attractive it keeps me away from what I really want.
It’s so sublime that at times I fully believe it MUST be God.
Addiction is so powerful, how could it not be God?
Addiction is so deceitful, so forgetful.
Addiction hides parts of me from myself so I can’t reach them anymore.
Addiction lies to me about who I am.
Addiction tells me God is not God.
Addiction says “I am God. Worship me. Dance with me. Sing with me. Love with me. Bow down before me. Hurt for me. Suffer for me. Die for me.”
Addiction separates.
Splits apart.
Shatters.
Splinters.
Breaks.
If I survive the breaking, then perhaps I see the beauty of the spaces. The limitlessness of spirit. The Love of God. The unity.
Perhaps I finally get to breathe in connection.
Perhaps I finally remember.
Perhaps I see clearly.
Perhaps I don’t fall for the tricks so easily.
Perhaps my heart is so full with God it no longer desires.
Perhaps I realise that even in the breaking I am whole.
Perhaps I feel how held I am.
Perhaps.
Perhaps.
