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 Feb 2014 Oliver Twist
September
I'm not an artist,
nor am I a murderer—
but I would **** for the day
where you let me trace circles on your skin
and outline your canvas with mine.
When my mother is tired, I offer to make her tea. She wants a beer, and even though I don't like it, I pour it for her anyway.

When my mother is tired, I offer to make her fried chicken. She says she doesn't want me to cook for her.. 19 years of cooking my meals and she doesn't want me to cook for her.. So I put in two pieces of toast and burn it just how she likes it and put on extra butter because I know she likes that too.

When my mother is tired, I tell her to call me on her bad day, tell her that even if I do nothing but sit there, it'll be okay because she doesn't have to face the sadness alone.

When my mother is tired, her eyes make triangles and her shoulders slump and she smiles so hard that I think it must hurt her jaw bones. The spirit of her eyes goes dim and her forehead forms creases like mountains and when my mother is tired..

I just want to see her sleep and dream. She so deserves to dream.
My mother had a bad day. The worst in a long time. Take off your armor mama, I'll take your place on the front lines.
 Feb 2014 Oliver Twist
Sjr1000
Writing Poetry
for me
is
Entering
a
dream
fully conscious.
 Feb 2014 Oliver Twist
Brianna
It could have been lack of sleep or maybe just lack of something exciting in my life I am never really sure these days but I hate the sunset today.

And it could have just been boredom but I took pictures of the blue sky hoping to see shades of blue that reminded me of you.

As always I seem to write the same theme to all these poetically challenged poems... More like journal entries these days.

I have been drinking again and my words come out slurred like a car crash they pile up on one another with no mercy.

Your lack of grace, or charm for a better word, makes my stomach hurt... How can I love someone I hate so much and hate someone I can't love? Such young and naive thinking is all I do these days.

I wrote you a letter but it sounded so childish... It was as if I was begging you to want me. I don't beg.

And I'm not sure If I get enough sleep because I tried to call you using my toothbrush and I realized I hated the sunrise this morning on the way to work.
I don't know what's wrong with me.
 Feb 2014 Oliver Twist
Sjr1000
I've been digging
through this dumpster
far too long
trying to get to the bottom of it all.
Slimey sweet stench
there's my first love
my first pipe
my last light
my first rush
my last gush
my first bet
my last buck
"the game ain't over
until the rent money's gone."

I am down a deep hole
and my only tool is a shovel
I've got that one choice
but to go
down
down
down.
Drunk and dial
Drunk and poetry
how did I get here
how do I get out?

I'm a spiritual wasteland
connected to no one
connected to nothing
My drug
My man
My woman
My casino
The rush comes first
The numbness comes last
until
death, insanity or jail
is within my grasp.
I do what I do
But I am allergic too
you understand
when I do what I do
I break out in handcuffs
jail cells
strapped down to beds
looking around
longing for my dumpster
and
what I might have found.

1st Step
12th Step
I've done them all
though the 13th Step
I liked the best
Sponsors have come and gone
Spiritual awakenings
have all been done
I am back in this dumpster
where I had begun.

There is an exquisite mystery
at the heart of it all
the internal shift
happens
an inside job
The 21 year old's first black out
enough is enough
The 60 year old
on his fifth DUI
going out for one more round.

It is true
I have seen it many times
Recovery can be found
Hope restored
Wisdom in these halls
Peace within these walls
The dumpster closed
and left behind
A ladder falls and arrives
acceptance and gratitude
combine
as they say
"One day at a time."
"Poker the game ain't over until the rent money is gone" was on a greeting card.
13th Stepping is hitting on new comers in meetings.   I am not in recovery yet, but I always need to add the yet.
 Feb 2014 Oliver Twist
Emily
You would always guilt trip me
Into believing that you were honest
You would get mad
When I spoke of wanting a new love
And what for
All you did was leave me in the end
By telling me you never loved me
And could never love me
You strung me along
Not for days
Not for weeks
But for months and months
You tortured me
Day after day
You went back and forth
Leading me to believe in a false hope
I was stupid to think
That you loved me truly
I knew how you were with others
You would lie
You would cheat to get ahead
I played the fool
By assuming you would be different with me
I treated you like a queen
And you treated me like I was nothing
And now I am here alone
With a broken heart
Can’t even leave this bed
Crippled to the core
With thoughts of you in my head
© Willa 2014
 Feb 2014 Oliver Twist
AJ
Kawa
 Feb 2014 Oliver Twist
AJ
I cant even feel one of my arms.
I think I hear a fan.
I'm not sure anymore.
About anything.
****.
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