I would crawl to work
on all fours after a night of heavy drinking,
just to avoid nursing a hangover at home
I hated being stuck at home, what, with all
my furniture bought on credit, living a life in debt.
So again and again, I crawled back to work.
Once, before I knew what and who I was, I found
nothing to question, not that the whole ball of wax
wasn't just a put-on, a big lie, a way to keep me bound.
The language of the living put out their message of peace love and understanding and I'd like to say I immediately answered the call, but that was not to be, not for years to come.
I couldn't stay away from the wicked alcohol without some hope.
I hide myself from any kind of sheltering arms, or full on hugs.
I held myself back, back to that phony self that kept me alone.
Finally, after a mental breakdown I began my spiritual breakthrough, it wasn't easy but it was something that had to be done, a process that one didn't find to be all that fun.