That first puff,
the first sip,
the burn in my throat,
light headed
and shaking,
another hit
another shot,
I remember when I promised
never.

I am not
the person I used to be,
I am not
a beacon of hope,
I am a shipwreck
and I can see
the smokestacks falling
into the sea.

Sometimes I have to
remind myself I am awake,
that this is not a dream,
maybe one day
I'll wake up
and it will be.

Do not look at me
like a sob story,
do not ask
for a happy ending,
there is no ending,
this is my life
and it is
ongoing
smoke bumming
***** stealing
blunt passing
cold turkey
relapsing
screaming
screaming
screaming.

Red ribbons
and markers on posters,
this is not
the person
I was
before.