May 2019
so used to sounds of empty cans,
that echo, soundly, who i am.
the unobserved addiction serves,
absurdity to those deserved.
that sullen scene, of which I've earned,
the edge i'll jump,
instead I'll turn.
that echo, soundly, who i am.
the unobserved addiction serves,
absurdity to those deserved.
that sullen scene, of which I've earned,
the edge i'll jump,
instead I'll turn.
A note on alcoholism. I feel no fuller than an empty beer can. An addiction that I hide, unobserved, serves absurdity, pleasure, relief, a dream, to those who partake in its effects. Inevitably arriving at the point of suicide, of which I have earned, worked for, like an unconscious goal, I see the edge to jump off. But in my heart, strength, and hope, I turn around and walk away from it, towards recovery.
