To find a new way
From dive bars to church basements
barstools to folding chairs
cigarettes to vapes to nicorette
to jolly ranchers
vices drop one by one
life slows down
time stretches out
it’s more appealing to
swap the word
boring for
stable,
at peace.
Cravings still surface
spasmodic twitches and
urges at the
corner of my eye
but I am stronger now
somehow.
Rawdogging reality
isn’t for the faint of heart
and for many, I wouldn’t
recommend it
but for those of us
who could take no other path
it is the only way.
For every stitch undone
I now mend
patching together
my unraveled life
praying for serenity
stapling stray pieces
back to each other
if needed.
I inhale
breathe out
this is my new
reality.
To fight the old way
Why did I have to
say I was good?
Why did I submit to
recovery speak?
It’s as if as soon
as I did, something
inside me was let loose to
prowl, the hunger,
the craving, the need
suddenly back full force.
I am gritting my teeth
white knuckling it, text my
sponsor and explain.
I didn’t, even though
I wanted to so badly,
even though I had the
urge, even though I am
struggling.
Why this? Why today?
How can I be fine for
months and then
flailing again. It
feels insane. I feel
insane. I’ve followed the
steps, the rules and
still it sits and it
waits for me to
make one misstep.
