A Life Worth Talking About (Poem)

Recovery means so many things depending on who you’re asking If you ask a limited person You’ll get self-limiting, judgemental thoughts But recovery knows no boundaries There’s no limit to who it can change Whether you’re in active addiction Or live a life that few can claim

Saboteur (Poem)

It’s scary how things can get so dark so fast A cave so deep that the darkness is blinding The longer you’re trapped the blinder you get Until you can’t remember what it was like to see Staggering around in anguish Struggling to latch onto a reason to live Nostalgia amounts to the type of affliction that decimates every last hope left within Until your corpse lives on right beside you Doing things you would have never did

First Thought Wrong (Poem)

I’m caught up in a cypher of first thought wrong Second thought vain Third thought lost I coast the banks of sabatoge Graze the pastures of fear Maintain a contemptible attitude toward the information I need And a grudge against life’s terms

Coasting (Poem)

What do you call it when one loses all senses? All sense of hope expectations fear longing anxiety frustration When nothing makes sense or even really matters and you no longer care about the outcome of any given circumstance? When you lose the burden of worrying fortune telling?

The Balancing Act (Poem)

Life is a balancing act Death is the scale The choices we make are the weights that we hold That we throw on the platforms of what’s right and what’s wrong As we try to gain ground on the route that we’ve sown

I Am Who I Am (Poem)

I am who I am And you can call it what you want I’m not a slice of some pie that you can put up in a box Date, label, price me then stock me on a shelf Then joke and analyze as a group when I don’t sell I am who I am And I’m a be who I’m a be

Unpacking? (Poem)

Terror Beneath the fog Among the thorns Inside a box High on a shelf Behind the curtain Around a cell So neatly packed and put away At times it seems surreal The struggles that it took to put a box upon a shelf Maybe if I pull it down and take a peek inside I’ll sweat relief in finding it was all a mess of mind Yeah right…

My Happy Place (Poem)

Memories are a fantasy that I dont dare to dream. As I fixate on the present, the past steeps further into the vortex as I stir my cup of tea. Peppermint and chamomile invigorate my senses. Steam rouses its way across my bosom through my face, as I slowly run my fingernails up and down the back of my thighs. Vibrations tingle through every sensual nook. I can hear every sound echoing faintly, a sort of white noise that soothes like the ocean’s waves. A hint of vanilla mingles with the scent of freshly washed linens.

My Sister’s Keeper (Poem)

Dedicated to my sister in recovery, Niomi. May her next life be abundant in joy and prosperity… I have so many sisters How can I keep them all? I’d need a super brain just to remember who they are But that is no excuse for dispossesing my own worth Preaching faith, joy, kindness And unrelenting love All the while caught up in petty dreams on a cloud where nothing seems to matter but what I can get or everyone can do for me

All that you need… (Poem)

Surrender Hang in there Do the next right thing Stay focused Dont blow this That gnawing in your gut will go away Don’t worry You’ll get there Your path will clear It may not be what you want But it’s all that you need