Working on the tenacious tendency
To reduce myself and render me ruined
Describing the dictating feelings is dire
Sometimes I wish to go forth and set myself on fire

The firewater was a necessary fuel
For I can only burn from the inside out
The doubt, the drought of positivity
Were kindling enough to ignite the fright

That fear was a mere beginning
The story passed down from generation to generation
Resulting in a confrontation, an activation
Sometimes things must be incinerated

Then it can start again, become educated, bloom
"I hate myself" turned to " let's change thyself"
Laborious toil upon the charred soil
Brought forth the grounds in which to root

They say April showers bring May flowers
Though it's never told how hard it is to conjure up the storm
It takes something from within, the want of a win
Only me, myself and I can decide to arise

Sad days lie in wait
It's on those days that I create
A symphony of "what ifs" inside my mind
Like time can be turned back as easy
As it is on the watch on my wrist

Calculations of consequences come easy
When those consequences have been had
Past decisions determined to be detrimental
But they do not define who I am

Depression hits like bird **** on my shoulder
Random and a nuisance
Much like the burden of my drinking
Thinking things would change with the change
I spent on the Dark Eyes staring back at me

Connection to my feelings turned to self-reflection
Work that seemed pointless now brings satisfaction
Active participation helps me avoid temptation
Watching the seconds tick away deep in contemplation

I remember the little bottles
All lined up neatly on the floor next to me
Waiting to feel my hands around the cap
The little "crack" as the seal is broken

The room temperature liquid slowly emptied
Rushing down and giving warmth to my belly
False sense of numbness rising to my lips
Believing all the pain is gone

One after another, each little bottle giving it's life
The numbness turns to darkness...lights out
I awake to realize that nothing has changed
The pain I thought I chased away returns

The cycle repeats itself, pain grows stronger
Numbness is not easily attained, chased with more
Darkness is all I wish for, permanent like a sharpie
Sadness turns to rage, rage to shame

Fog sets all around my world
The darkness spreads, so much darkness
Shame turns to regret, regret to change
28 days cracking my skull to find the spark

The spark becomes an ember, glowing
Therapy and a hard look in the mirror provide the oxygen
It turns into a small flame, the light
The light pushes out the darkness

Fog rises up and becomes clouds on a sunny day
I see it all clearly now, life anew
The pain doesn't go away but is managed
Hard work, perseverance, honesty are my new friends

A Yukon Boy,
Becomes a Sober Man

For every kind of ailment I looked at you to cure my pain;
No matter how crazy or far, I let you take reign.
And right now I don't know what I've become or who I'm turning into;
And it's impossible to figure out how I'll ever make it from here without you.
But enough is enough and relief from a nightmare isn't a solution;
Being so dependant on you was a mere illusion.
And from here sobriety turns from vase to road;
As I once again try to stray off from the ones who strive to corrode.

Sobriety is overrated
I like it when my head spins
I like a little loss of control
I like intoxication

I waltzed on the dance floor with Ellie,
Hands around her waist,
Her face buried in my neck.
She smelt of sweet honey,
Soft to the taste,
But such a warm and beautiful wreck.
Our love was something else,
We were the delicate fragrant roses
That grew from concrete.
When I taste her under my tongue,
The room turns quiet,
Colours brighten,
And there’s finally some peace.

Darling, it’s about time you come home,
I told myself.
Facing the ceiling with warm hands crossed
At my stomach, my eyes glued on the wall,
Mesmerised by the shifting mandalas,
Bright colours and overwhelming joy.
The weight of ten lifetimes rose from my lifeless body
And waltzed away into the cool air.
I convinced myself that it was just for fun,
But really it replaced the warmth that has been
Stripped away from my being,
If anything, this is my healing.

She let the tiny pieces of paper under her tongue
Bring her closer to a temporary euphoria,
But reality hits when the ego rises from the ashes
And her sweet trip is over.

“My love, you are fragile,”
I chant, rocking back and forth
On my bed, knees to my chest.
Your soul had been broken,
But don’t walk over the shards
With your bare feet.
Keep your head high, my dear,
Take it day by day, then eventually
Week by week.
You are not a wasted soul,
And don’t you ever dare claim to be weak.
Remember your roots,      
Because in unforgiving mud
Do lotus roots bury deep,
Yet the flowers muster the strength
And unbelievable courage
To reach fearlessly at sunlight,
Emerge from the surface,
Just to finally
Breathe.