Tumors or memories

Why do you self destruct?
Everything you do. You run away, burn bridges. Perceive needs. You think the world revolves around you. It used to. I have to let you go. I was not ready. Would never be ready. I have to. You are like a cancer that keeps spreading through my body. All our memories are tumors. They grow and fester. They come out of nowhere and go hide, only to reappear when I least expect them to. I rarely enjoy. I am still trapped within myself. Living in the darkness like it is my light. Yoga. Breathe. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Write. Smoke. Friend. Kids. Love. Relapse. Relapse. Breathe. Smoke. Repeat. Recover. Rejoice? Not yet. What has the earth in store for me? Where is it going to spit me out after it has chewed me up? If I was a cat, I would have used up my nine lives dying over and over again for you. Always chasing you. But curiosity killed the cat. Killed this cat dead. Made her rot. Decay. Ashes to ashes. I have turned to dirt. I am so dead. All I need is a bird to drop a seed, plant it so that I can be reborn. Regrown. Where is that damn bird? Did the cat kill it before she died?

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