What substance was it?

The culmination of diamond-like shards
crushed and, then, melted into a precarious liquid
a liquid that follows the sway of a glass sphere attached to a glass stem
the end of which is rested between my lips
the length of the stem, itself, is clutched and rested between my index finger and my thumb
large clouds of odorless smoke besets the circumference of my bust as I exhale
immediate!
This substance will soon serenade the totality of my biology’s neurology.
Break that pipe now!
Simple glass that can be stepped on
crushed beneath feet!

What substance was that?
A human is free now
emancipated
the new substance of their affection is sobriety!

Author’s note: please, abate or diminish your substance abuse, if you have one. And, despite what I have alluded to within this poem, “sobriety” is never easily obtained, yet, it is very much worth the effort to obtain it.

Here's to trying to write after all these years
after all my wrongs, all my fears
just for this moment to finally feel alright
you have grown, you put up a good fight
you adapted a love for beer and long walks
you've learned to open up and have those necessary talks
you sang all those sad songs and found happy ones
you've even learned that not every battle needs guns
life didn't come with instructions
no please follow as shown
the beauty of life is figuring it out on our own
Here's to breaking your shell and seeing more sunlight
you can stop now, you put up a good fight.

At 7:54,
On July 17th 2023.
I embraced a new chapter,
embracing sobriety.

I took this stand through heartbreak,
Felt the pain each and everyday.
Refused to let my spirit,
be distracted and led astray.

2 breakups tested my strength,
but I held on so very tight,
For July 17th,
marked the start of my new fight.

In the depths of my despair,
I nearly chose to give in.
But a flicker of hope kept burning,
burning deep within.

So here's to the battles fought,
and the victories I have won,
To the resiliency within,
to never be undone.

For now, Sobriety's my gift,
a chance to truly thrive,
Chasing dreams, embracing life,
Thanking God I’m still alive.

A tuber of sobriety
sprouts in the mind
It swells and thickens
from a root to a vine

A tendril meanders
and wavers
but all the while
still climbs...

The impossible
becoming possible
with discipline
and time

Night comes on like
an old hound lumbering
in from the field.
I don't fight it.
I'm getting too old.
I sit with pen in hand,
and wait for the
darkness to show
me something.

I think about vaginas and
Ireland and fish that
hunt a t night.
I think about
Bukowski and
Beethoven, and the
*******, and a kernel
of corn.
I think about my
life and this night, and
how it is better than
those near-death years of
caterwauling and chaos;
drunk by the river, lonely
as a glass snake.
I was living to drink, and
didn't give a **** about
anyone.
I was searching.
I found it
when the light came.