On March 19th I went to a party

accompanied by my first love; my soul getter

I trusted him

This man I equated as an angel on earth

 

So when I drank too much

Exceeded my limits

I trusted him still

This man I equated as an angel on earth

 

I should not have

An angel would never touch me like that

Abuse my trust

My right to refuse him

 

Upon the comprehension of how utterly wrong I was

About his character

Everything in my life

Unstabilized

 

He started a fire that burned and burned

Every tree within me fried

In the smoke I lost who I was

I became the person he believed I was

 

Worthless

Naive

Undeserving of real love;

Respect

 

The flashbacks inducing despair and despondency

Would lead you to believe I saw the horrors of war

But much like the soldier I was not

I had to fight

 

As the fire destroyed my entire world

I created a flood in the only way I knew how

By drinking more and more of the very drink I drank that night

Ironic

 

I fought with tears

Put out the fire with vodka

But vodka only ignited the flames further

I was fighting a losing fight

 

It wasn’t until 3 months after March 19th did I understand

That I desperately needed my pen and paper  

 

Much like alcohol was a necessity

Poetry became a function I needed to live

To process

To heal

 

My pen and paper have taught me that I am

Important

Wonderful

Strong

 

I’ve grieved the loss of my angel on earth

Accepted his new role in throwing me fireballs from hell

But my pen and paper are beside me

Eager to face his wrath with hoses filled with words

 

I’ve found my words can extinguish the fire

Even though he can't hear them

Even my therapist's advice couldn’t match the solace

From my pen and paper

 

My trees are gone

But new ones are growing