“I’ve been sober for two months now,”
I was proud of these words when I sent them your way
You seemed proud of me too.

Two months battling the Beast
Inside of me
Always craving, itching, howling
To be let out of it’s cage.

I resisted.
I defied the Beast for the people I love,
And for the people who cherish me.

“One day at a time,”
The councilors tell me,
And I learned, slowly, how to treat myself well.  

We spoke on the phone last night,
After I had finally gotten my med dose right.
“I’m single now; we broke up…”

The way you said it tugged at my heart
As if I was going to be your fresh start.
And I fell, knowing you would catch me.  

“I’m getting drunk now.”
Were the last words you said to
Me. The recovering addict.
As if my words seemed feasible
You cashed them in for something better.

If words had arms attached to them,
Yours would punch a grenade in my gut.