My darling daughter.

I feel you.

I don’t want too, but I do. I feel you.

It feels good. Safe to know where you are today. Tomorrow and the day after.

You are alive. Away from the shadow of the corner of the streets where awaits your predators, where death moves so close to you ready to catch what you can longer manage.

I am resting from the constant underlying anxiety I feel when you are out, swimming deep in this part of the ocean where sharks dance around you alert for that drop of blood that you wipe off as soon as the syringe moves out of your skin.

Hypnotized by the ecstasy that feeds the chaos in your life, your hand desperately reaches out for the poison you have convinced yourself will save your life.

Your head is highjacked and drunk by the same noise that I am learning to clear out of my head. You can’t think clearly anymore.

Disconnected from the part of you who knows what is best for you, the part of you, you can’t hear. You are lost. Unmanageable. A wild fire destroying absolutely everything that gets in the way.

But today, day eight, inside. Apparently punished deprived of the right to destroy yourself, inside you are free.

No drugs being pushed into your veins.

No chemicals messing up with your head.

You have a bed. Not floor where someone unconscious rapes you while you are passed out.

Food. Not a tone of sugar.

I know where you are.

I fall asleep knowing you are safe.

I know where you are.

I feel safe. How insane does this sound. Punished, deprived and safe that way.

You are so beautiful when you are contained. When you are raw. When you have lost control and you can no longer be the predator of your soul .

Held against the will of the part of you who is the addict.

You are free inside, I feel free.

The way you use your freedom outside is excruciatingly painful.

Taking away your freedom where you are at in your mind, means ending the torture.

You are a danger to yourself in the streets.

No limits to self harm.