Dear Rehab,

When I met you, I wasn’t myself.

I came to you from the floor below,
still trembling —
from withdrawal, sleep-starved delusions,
or some bitter cocktail of both.
A fog so thick
I couldn’t tell the walls
from the weight pressing on my chest.

You were sterile and white,
like the hollow shell of a second chance.
I hated…read more

I never fathomed we’d ascend this far.
Back then, I measured time by breakdowns.
Each breath felt borrowed.
I once wept over the same pages
that now bear the weight of your power.

You—
the incarnation I once feared to envision.
You laugh without restraint.
You speak your truth as if crafted by the
heavens,
a goddess among stars,
ad…read more