Touched by an epidemic: P.O.T.C.O.P.O.T.O.

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” -Kahlil Gibran

I’m falling apart, but holding together.

I’m a floating, detached eyeball, but still grounded as fuck. Last night I watched a man go cold, but I still lean into the fire.

He was a friend and recovering addict. He made a mistake when he relapsed; he did a good job hiding it. He also forgot where his heart was, and forgot to keep asking for help.