When the itch for fun returns, not a second thought is given,
as your neck creaks back, and you close your eyes in escape.
We know you've tried.
We admire your attempts at playing sober.
But the itch always returns, doesn't it?
-
The glass is emptied before much thought is given,
and those acquaintances you call friends cheer as every once is finished.
You'll teeter and jeer.
You'll wobble and fall.
All the while smiling and feeling like this is where you belong,
as your family back home waits up, late into the night
for you to stumble home again.
-
We know it must be hard
to open the fridge and crumple,
to walk past the store without fault
as the gentle coax of fun calls
and disturbs all the work you've done.
-
So, we will not lower our brows and make you feel rotten.
We will swallow our tears and call your A.A sponsor,
so that you won't be the reason
a night, an evening, a family
or a life
is ruined, without a second thought.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Kera Hollow and writers in Poets and other communities.
Kusliga Vista
“I told you we were going too far off trail,” said Clark. “I thought Ammon said he could read a compass,” said Kit. “Guys, it’s easy, we just need to find a river or stream and follow it. Those things always lead to civilization,” Ammon said and pushed through thick patch of bushes.
By Amos Glade4 days ago in Horror
Comments (3)
I hear you so well. You’ve done an amazing thing here.
As an alaays recovering addict, Kera, i felt this in my core. Though drink is not my addiction, I know how hard it can be to avoid relapse. If this is autobiographical, you have my sympathy and support. Heartfelt and encouraging poem.
That's how we handle it very responsibly and reasonably. Loved your poem!