He eroded himself like a rock into a fine powder.
Losing sight of himself.
He started to fall into the abyss of a dark tunnel.
A “Small purchase” he called it “Something to drink”
And she slowly lost sight of him as he fell into a dark chasm of sorrow.
He diluted and mixed
himself until he forgot.
He lost himself in drink and further himself from his loved ones.
He slammed doors.
The devils claws drew close .
But he was oblivious, he shouted and pushed.
But one soul reached into his heart
Showed him the error, his dilution
And he saw the light in the once dark chasm.
“Mommy! Mommy! I'm crying!”
Jumping in the rocking chair
“Baby, sit down, stop your whining.”
Tearing a stranger’s underwear
“Mommy! Mommy! I feel sick!”
Sharp words spoken through vomit
“Sweetie, would you stop your joking?”
A freshly rolled joint made for smoking
“Mommy! Mommy! I can't breathe!”
Hysteria from the panic
“Dearest, just take some pills, please.”
On the drugs from the attic
“Mommy! Mommy! My chest hurts!”
Rapid pounding through the shirt
“Honey, shut up, drink your bottle.”
Alcohol straight from the nozzle
“Mommy! Mommy! I'm choking!”
Falling into a seizure
“Darling, would you quit your moaning?”
A midnight whore, all too eager
“Mommy! Mommy! I'm bleeding!”
The sound of terrified weeping
“Sweetheart, all you need is some sleep.”
Gone too high on amphetamines
“Mommy! Mommy! I'm dying!”
Skin starting to change color
“Baby, lay down, stop your whining.”
Forgetting to be a mother.
When my friends think about drinking they see parties, and wild nights, and crazy hangovers
And when I tell them I never plan on letting a sip of alcohol touch my lips, they're scandalized
Because they don't understand
How could they ever?
When I think of drinking, I think of my mom passed out underneath our Christmas tree
Or my dad swerving down side streets with the smell of whiskey wafting off of him like smoke from a campfire
I see my childhood that came crashing down in front of my eyes
I see something that they will never understand
There was a time where I relished his drunk touch.
The feeling on the dance floor,
Of his lips on mine,
His hands on my waist.
I felt power from his touch.
It affirmed what I wanted to feel-
I wanted to feel beautiful,
I believed for a while that his drunk attention proved these things to be true.
Now I know differently.
Now that our drunk love has burned out,
I understand I am the only one who can make these things true.
I will no longer find power in drunk love.
I will find power in myself.
This is not a poem about sexual assault.
This is not a poem about you taking everything from me.
This is not a poem about you taking the little girl I was once and forcing her to see how terrible the world can truly be.
This is not a poem about you taking my 4.0 GPA and shoving it under your bed with the remnants of my underwear.
This is not a poem about you taking the comfort out of physical affection.
This is not a poem about you pretending not to hear me when I begged you to stop.
This is not a poem about me pretending to fall asleep so I could pretend like I didn't remember it happened again.
This is not a poem about you blaming the alcohol.
This is not a poem about you blaming me.
This is not a poem.
I don’t use it to escape
or make the pain go away
or to numb my feelings
it’s frowned upon by most,
some find it deadening
and others to be fatal
but I find myself crossing
swords with the few who
are brave enough....
its the fuel,
the self medication
that makes me feel
alive and goes
hand in hand
with my writing
and my daily life
it gives me the answers
that fit in with the questions
that so many people yearn for
while they sip on their
coffee and tea and
write poems about
skittles and unicorns
in their fantasy land
that doesn’t exist,
what I see,
feel is to be true
and real in this
anybody can play
but it takes guts
to play the fool
stepping in the
in life and to be
deceived by those
who are on the
outside looking in
I have no use
I am here,
in a crowd full
of clothed people
with nothing to hide
except my face
behind a beard.
I am the disease,
the cancer of society,
cells reproducing and I’m
eating up all your resources
with no logic or reasoning.
when he finds out
that he made a lunch
for him and didn’t lose
his car keys
his drive to work will
be more peaceful
and the food on his
lunch break will taste
than those he’s
bend over world
and deal with it,
I’m a drunk
without any regrets
I want to blame this feeling
This tongue tied nausea inside me
On the alcohol
On this hangover
But a small part of me
The same part that told me
To put the shots down
And that beer is a bad chaser
Whispers that maybe it’s not the hangover at all
Maybe I have a flesh eating virus
Or a tape worm
Maybe it’s kinda like that but kinda not
Like maybe my regrets are eating me alive
From the inside out
Maybe there is a parasite in me
Or perhaps I am said parasite.
My failures cascade down my flesh
Wondering, will you make me whole again?
I don’t even care to try
Better to clutch this bottle and
Let the amber hit my throat
Better to soak my suffering in brown
And let the sweet haze take over me
I feel you festering in my throat
Searing my lungs
Living in the moment, I inhale my self-destruction,
Casually chasing my own death
But you give me more warmth than they ever do,
Your toxicity on my tongue
Tastes so much better than their words
Tonight I am alive.