Lillian E Shoemaker

Lillian E Shoemaker May 2014

I don't know where it comes from,
this think called writers block.
It's not like I'm being rushed,
or held against the clock.

A word is a word is a word.
That's what I was taught.
A poem starts with a single word,
and help from a little thought.

They make it sound so easy,
Put together rhythm and sound.
But when i have no topic,
my thoughts just float around!

Around, around, around they float
but never in an order.
A dollar for my thoughts you think?
Or maybe just a quarter?

A quarter could be all their worth,
for nothings in my head.
maybe I'm thinking far too fast?
maybe its all in my head.

with writers block, sometimes the first word that comes to your head is your best fuel for a new piece.
and in this case, the first word was writers block.

#block #notsad #peoetry #mybrain

Lillian E Shoemaker Mar 2014

A "Craving."

Craving: Car-Rave-Ing: N;
1) An obsessive need or want for something.
2) To crave; a desire to have something right away.

Needless to say, I'll go another few minutes, hours, days, with what my therapist calls "a craving." It makes my skin crawl, my jaw clench, my heart race, I become restless. At that point, it's no longer mental.

All of my dreams are consumed by my own definition of happiness, no, ecstacy. But because my definition doesn't correlate with the american dream, my happiness must end in what they call "sobriety" and I have to deal with what my therapist calls "a craving."

The yellow bird I once had flew away, and like a light switch, emotion took it's place. I now have to feel which has always been, since day one, the exact reason I crave another reality. One like Alice In Wonderland, where no one else got to see. One like Limitless, where every one else got to see and wanted.
You asked me what they were like. And now you know.

THIS is a craving.

I wrote this to an ex boyfriend of mine who abused me for 2 years. He still uses drugs to this day (he hasn't gone one day without the needle), but he always asked me why I couldn't live without them. I simply told him the cravings were too bad and he questioned what they were like.

#addiction #anger #therapy #cravings #addict

Lillian E Shoemaker Mar 2014

And We'll All Go Home.

In a room, loud with noises,
held without a break in their voices.
Thousands of people,
but it's so lonely here.
Some of them I'd call friends,
reeking of the smell of beer,
they follow such childish trends.
Still, when the night ends,
so will the buzz,
and we'll all go home,
alone.

In a sea of outspoken tongues,
their outgoing breath fills my lungs.
I'm drowning.
But nobody saves me.
Maybe it's better off that way?
feeling so dark within the sea
in the brightest light of April.
The dark slowly turns to day,
the stars will fall,
and we'll all go home
alone.

#lonely #alone

Lillian E Shoemaker Mar 2014

My Part in this.

I did it. All of it. I'm guilty of it.
I did it to forget.
I did it to become vacant.
I did it to make the constant neurosis, my own personal insanity justified.
I did it. All of it.

I did it because it seemed to be the only thing that could create the smallest ability in myself to smile.
I did it because it was easier,
I did it because it was the only "happy pill" that worked.
I did it to feel comfort, which quickly became survival.
I did it. All of it. I'm guilty.

I did it regardless of what I had to do to be able.
I did it impulsively, desperately, selfishly.
I did it to silence, or at least muffle those voices that only I could hear.
I did it to separate my soul from my body.
I did it in bathroom stalls, ally ways, in broken down and abandoned houses, in public.
I did it with people who did it too.
I did it isolated from the world and everyone in it.
I did it to slow me down, to speed me up, to function, to change the way I was without it.
I did it away from home so I could avoid the exact feelings I didn't want to feel that i saw in the ones I should have loved.
I did it. All of it.

I curled up on the floor, begging whatever may have been listening to rid me of this evil exploding out of my center. I filled my heart with a theoretical Novocaine that I'd concocted myself.
I pushed them all away.
I was alone.

Yes, I did it. All of it. I'm completely guilty of it.
Now when I speak, I hear no response.

I hope this reaches out to anybody who can relate addiction to their life. This is the gist of mine. I originally wrote this to read to my dad so he could understand what lengths I went to and how I sold myself short. I had 18 months and relapsed a few days after I got my NA tag and felt the need to give my father an answer when he asks "why." I have about 4 months clean, now.

P.s. -My dad is my best friend. He's helped me along the way. <3

#addiction #drugs #thestruggleisreal #narcoticsanonymous

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