Loving someone who abuses substances is a love that lacks romance, but still maintains.
The moments of their sobriety are the ones in which we’re killing ourselves this time,
because we’re holding our breath.
Because before we have the chance to open our mouth again, we see you
going through your withdrawal,
the anger, the hate,
the hurt with no real blame but always consequences.
Nothing changes.
Loving someone who abuses substances makes you question
What else they abuse without realizing it. Or, at least, without admitting to it.
Television shows and magazines portray children and teens ‘finding their way’ through life,
when in reality they’re just another ******* crutch or pillar conveniently rooted
to a source that’s destroying itself, regardless.
It destroys us.
You throw the word down and out
Love
Wrap it around your bicep, constrict
Feel the resistance and call it
Love
Feel the blood stop and call it
Passion
feel the skin burn and call it
forgiveness.
Withdrawals are apologies
For being sober.
There is no room for who you are, when you love someone that abuses substances.
There is only room for the excuses they save for their moments of ‘clarity’ still
under a bell jar still
Wrapping plastic around lose particles they think will stabilize them
Or pouring a glass just to finish the bottle
Instead of themselves
All along never realizing
each pull tightens our ropes.