I've been off the morphine for a week now. I've been struggling to put into words how utterly awful the withdrawal process has been (and it's not over yet), but there really aren't words for it. Here's the best I can do though:


Wrung out, twisted, crushed and torn like a rag,
Pulled inside out, upside down and back to front; up is down, north is south.
Everything but Now fades to a single, tiny pinprick of untouchable light,
Trapped inside the black, spinning vortex, whirling and swirling, empty yet crushing, closing in. Alone.
Helping hands, loving voices, calling out, reaching in, but ghostly, distant, separate;
Cruel projections from another world, fleeting, amorphous disintegrations into dust.
Body and soul slammed over and over, again and again. Unrelenting, unremitting, unforgiving.