Gateway Poem
Her name was Alcohol
But she went by many aliases:
Merlot, Patron, Ciroc, Cristal just to name a few
My mother used to walk in on my father and her
his lips around hers, hands caressing her neck and hips
he was drunk in love for her and she knew she could get him to do anything she wanted him to
I saw what she did to him; how she put my family and my parent's marriage at stake
and sent him down a pipeline, it's been almost two years since I've seen him
I was never attracted to her...spirits
good thing I'm gay right?
No, she-they don't discriminate
Alcohol is a shape shifter, a magician:
able to take the form of what you are missing in life (if not responsible)
They are legion, spirits and false libations making eighth-ass promises to you
they shape shifted , produced an image of a man so fine, that he knocked my ass out cold
I thought that he loved me, but all he did was help the pills go down,
sliding down my tongue,a failed game of chutes and ladders
My weighted feet pushed my bed room miles away
climbing up my stairs was a tomb raider adventure, but my first name is not Lara
and I almost stumbled onto the floor, but he cought me, and his soft voice turned into a multitude
speaking in unision they whispered "shh.." they laid me down gently and closed my eyes
Woke up with the sharpest pain in my stomach and painful etches into my skin; an archipelago of scabs on my right arm
Tripped walking up the stairs at school, hung over, throat burning, sent home early
Told no one, made me sign a discretion contract in my own tears
When asked what was wrong I just said I had a..stomach ache
None of them were escapes for me
I wandered around looking for someone or something to guide me through, to help me escape
To be my gateway drug but I was left with no promises
My mans Kush said he'd hook me up, but I'm terrified of pipelines and steel bars
Went to Kensington and saw the ghosts on Allegheny Street;
pale, dirty blonde and toothless
They wore their scars with honor, but it came at a price
Confined to corners, bodegas, abandoned houses the smell of rotten flesh and coffee is enough to make me vomit
I went to college and heard of the great Aderall, promising to cheer me up and help me focus
But I enjoy sleep, I'm grateful for the little that I can get
My bed transforms into a cloud at 5:00 AM
I sit up empty handed, voices of defeat manifesting itself into Titans, voices growing louder
Pencil and sketchbook on floor, used as shield and sword
Was able to bury them in Gaea's uterus. I knew that they would mature soon, but I was high and ddin't care
Some smoke, drink, snort or shoot up, but I put paper to pen and he alters my sense of time and space
and flowers engulf my feet and he causes it to rain coconut oil and tea tree and it drips down my head and rolls down my buttocks
and I no longer am afraid when I hear "shh" I know that when he says that, the gates bust wide open
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