i swear i'm not an alcoholic i only wish i was sometimes
There are a lot of things swirling inside you
Emotions and memories and darkness that
You don’t know quite how to process
So you push them into back corners for
Moments when you find yourself
Alone on the kitchen floor with
Empty wine bottles and tear ducts and boxed dinners
And a head so alcohol clear that
You swear you can see into infinity
When you can barely see two feet in front of you
And you hate to talk about why
So let’s talk about it.
You grew up alone in a house with
Two brothers and two sisters and
A mother too busy raising other people’s kids
To look too closely at her own children and
A father too busy fighting for a big enough paycheck
To make one end meet the other
To spend time with anyone but the favorite.
We both know that this is only secondhand information
Gathered from fragments of your own memory
And conversations you weren’t meant to hear
Because there is a gaping hole where
Your memory is supposed to rest.
You flinch at the smallest of things
A raised voice has you running scared
Into the arms of childhood fantasy lands,
A raised hand in any context has you
Tensing in anticipation for the blow that
You do not know will land until it does or doesn’t,
The mere thought of going home
-No, home is somewhere you feel safe-
The mere thought of seeing your parents
Has you shaking like a leaf in a gale
And you can’t even remember
Somewhere along your lot in life
You stopped caring about the root cause
Because there was something there
Storming in the sky in front of you
Making the waves crash over your
Already waterlogged head and
You let the trauma soak right in
Straight down to your bones
Already steeped in a sadness
You couldn’t remember being without
Because it was easier to drown
Than to try to float in an ocean of fear.
You have drowned again and again
Like it is the only thing you know how to do
Let him open your chest with gentle hands
And fill it with pebbles until it is too late
And you are sinking to the bottom,
Let her rip open the barely healed wounds
And pour poison in your chest that turns your organs to lead
Letting you think the whole time that it is
Your poison in your hands in her chest
Stare down the blank nothing that is
Your very creation and every moment between
That seperates you then and you now.
But you have not died yet
And this alone
Makes you worth more than
All of that.
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I really enjoyed reading your poem. Well done.