My fix is the truth
I call it the healing booth
Where I run when calm doesn't come
When these wrecking nerves 
Won't let me even cum.

My fix is some safe house
Brings around some needed solace
Where I take the demons I can no longer house
When lonely attempts to eat feed off my time
And turns my vodka shots into lime.

My fix lovingly fosters the light
That sails my soul back to these tired bones 
The beacon that steers me through long nights
And whispers strength in hush tones
Just to get me to keep fighting another day.

My fix is an elusive kinda love
One thats free of any kinda judgement 
Where I'll no longer needs these kinda masks
And my spirit gets to explore beyond the touches 
That feel more like mere love tasks.

My fix is beaming with pride 
Looking at how far I have come 
Once plagued with doubts blind
Feeling the fight was for some
Yet here I stand on my two damn feet.

[![milan-2698731-640.jpg](https://i.postimg.cc/wMmKXC5s/milan-2698731-640.jpg)](https://postimg.cc/y3srBrbV)

<center>[Pjes/Pixabay](https://pixabay.com/photos/milan-cemetery-sculpture-statues-2698731/).</center>

*Meditating on my fix as I  close the weekend. It was a long one...The high being the gift of life and health. The being here to watch my children grow and even fall in love. The having this community we go back to knowing that we will be welcome regardless of where we are or what we are experiencing on the ground.*

<center>*What's happening on your end?*</center>

                             **Cross Posted**

<center>**BQ.**</center>