#dui
Chained and shackled to the bottle
Disorderly conduct,
a DUI,
domestic violence report.
My guilt is shown in I front of the court.
Wanting to stop
Dreams are a flop.
Behind lock and key.
My new baby sister, I’m unable to see.
May 7, 2019
May 7, 2019 at 8:48 AM UTC
A friend,
a night.
Some food,
a smoke.
Invitation --
a couple drinks.
A couple more,
making friends.
Pass the phone
a couple times.
One mistake
a promise & a crash.
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC
Try to drown my sorrow
Try to pretend tomorrow
Wont be just another day
Down this road I follow..
But I'm at the bottom of the bottle
Ive went and gone full throttle
Looking back in my rear view
Sobriety.. Is not my motto..
Another rack of *****
I toast each one to you
Thank you for the memories
I relive on my drunken cruise
The radio echoes out to me
And all my heart has come to be
Empty bottles hide the floor
Evidence of my self-mutiny
Had a few too many now I see
The lanes in the road now multiplying
A crack, a smirk, and pop the cork
And run this car into a ******* tree.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 12:57 AM UTC
Clean it up.
trash, littered
glass glitters
smash delivered
mouths quiver
blood slithers
roads killer
people stiffer
lives teetered
eyes tear
cars peered
windows cleared
bodies feared
clean it up.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
Midnight back roads
Dark - insidious
Hungry for the intoxicated.
A monster comes out to
Prey on inebriated
Fellows.
Skiddings of tires,
Broken glass,
And red stains mark
Where the beast
Hunts
Road ****
A snack
and drivers
The main dish
The cycle is
Weekdays - innocents
Weekends - idiots
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
I buried all my pain in a 40oz bottle
My mother had once asked me if I was an alcoholic
She found endless bottles beneath the crevice of my bed
It looked like the valley of the shadow of death;
A grave yard of bottles that had been drunk’ to the last drop-
She lined every one across my desk; pleading for some answers
Her eyes were solemn and filled with grief
She must have looked like she aged about 20 years in that moment,
I saw her wrinkles were pained with disappointment
Tears escaped her eyes, I was lost to her.
She walked into my room to watch me sleep for a few minutes and say goodnight,
I was wearing a sweatshirt; only it wasn’t me
It was stuffed with blankets and pillows.
I was in the closet, I felt her disappointed sadden breaths as she peered in at her little girl
She had no idea I was leaving; I left the moment her bedside light when out.
Somewhere there was still a broken little girl who buried her pain in liquor and drugs
When the phone rang during the dead silence of the night she wondered if her little girl would be gone forever
She struck a blow to my sisters face; She had never been faced with a situation like this before
Her first instinct was to blame her for the loss of breath that would not will itself out of my lungs
Her eyes peered in at her little girl;
But this time it wasn’t from her bedroom door-
It was through her blurred vision standing outside an ambulance.
When a pulse was found my mouth began to foam and my chest heaved in spasmodic compulsions
It took me two days to recover; my mother didn’t leave my side.
She must have instantly grown grey hair the second she laid her eyes on my lifeless body
When I went away to Africa she found my drugs, she flushed them down the toilet
Wishing she could flush away all my bad habits
She must have sat in my room and cried numerous times that summer
Her little girl was still lost, even more than she could have imagined.
She didn’t know what to do, so she did what she could-
So she replaced my drugs with bible verses that had been burned into the back of my skull since I was a kid
I came home that summer to open arms, still full of love
But this time it looked as if she must have aged another decade
I walked into a perfectly clean room;
It must have taken days for her to clean.
She didn’t miss a single spot, my drugs we’re completely gone
And I felt pieces of my heart slip away,
I wondered how I could burden the woman who brought me into this world I wonder if she felt all hope was gone
She asked me if I was an alcoholic again
When she found new liquor bottles stuffed between my clothes
And the 24 pack of beer in the far corner of my closet
This time I left; I didn’t come back
She cried and tired to rip my bag from my hands
But the disappointment of her stare burdened me to no extent.
Her little girl was slowly slipping through her fingers.
When I finally came home she still welcomed me with open arms
She embraced me as if I was the prodigal son who had finally returned She didn’t realize I was still lost-
I told her I was going to my best fiends house
We went to Santa Cruz instead;
I was hyped up on coffee, and would soon be so drunk I couldn’t walk
My mom got another call that night; Her daughter had been in a car accident, it was bad-
The entire car was totaled on one of the busiest highways
I looked to the side and a semi was coming full on
I thought I was going to die;
I prayed that God would give my mother some peace about me
That he would somehow get her through the death of her child that has been long coming;
But I didn’t die, because some part of God’s plan wasn’t over
The semi hit us, our car was slightly underneath it;
Death stared at me inches from my face
Yet all I had was a few broken ribs and a scratch that ran along my forehead
I wonder how much older my mother looked then.
I was still lost, did she wonder if there was any hope of bringing her little girl home?
My mother discusses books with me now;
She hardly brings up my past
I can still see disappointment in her eyes
But she somehow looks younger Because her little girl finally came home-
Because even though her nerves want to wake her up at 3am wondering where I am, they don’t
It sounds like quite the story, but imagine reading it through her eyes.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
beyond Montana’s yellow lines
there is a field
~a field of painted soles
and laces rubber tread
~a field of ****** curls
and fallen headlights
where kaleidoscope lenses
look onto twisted frames like origami halos
where teddy bears hug stop signs like pickets
fringed in anger
runaway childhoods sleep cautionary tales
beyond Montana’s blushing acne
there are red cup melodies
blasting from blacked out tints
weaving blues notes through Rock & Rap
distant cries are drowned by Bass
or maybe Bud (light)
a haze of teenage eyes
they might as well be ghost riders
whip game copped from GTA
these pubescents are a Vice to their City
blooming sidewalk sloths
like flowerbeds
beyond Montana
is a country of bar stools
where bar tenders play therapists
and therapists play coroners
precedents are shots of whiskey - taken to the head
and reflected in flooded eyes
beyond Montana
is a country of MADD mothers and SADD students
beyond Montana
is a country of unexpecting pedestrians
beyond Montana
is a field
~a field of wing-clipped snow angels
That field is Mariah's home now
and she challenges you to change
yourself
your friends
your country
she challenges you to
STOP DRUNK DRIVING
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC