Step One: The Maze Runner (Twelve Steps)

Truth is often subjectively objective. As oxymoronic as it may seem, reaching the full realization of one’s own truth is like gathering a harvest from the outcroppings of a maze full of twisted turns, entangled snares, and exhaustive dead ends. The outer appearance of such a maze may seem resilient and full of potential. As the maze begins wither, regardless of the amount of care it receives, onlookers may frown upon its appearance, scoff the caretaker, and write off the maze as a lost cause.

The Allergy (Poem)

My judgment is laden with malady
I can feel the scourge immersing my brain
The trance sets in
I can’t control my thoughts
My body disassociates my mind

Low Bottom Drunk (Poem)

I’m a low bottom
I got no bottom
I keep tumbling down to find more bottoms
But for the grace of God
Don’t mean piss to me
I’ll take a piss on your steps
Act like it wasn’t me

I Don’t Pray (Twelve Steps)

I don’t pray
I believe in God
I believe the spirit speaks through us
I believe in the secret way
But I don’t pray

Acceptance (Twelve Steps)

Perception can excruciate your best of days and rectify your worst. When your spirit is dry as kindling, any flicker of a spark can blow up your life and send you fleeing from the house you filled with tumbleweeds and briars.

Let me try this again… (Twelve Steps)

Hello, my name is Maria and I am a…
fall down
blackout
barf shit and never clean it up
saint by day demon by night
self-centered
self-hating
self-sabotaging
backsliding
mean

Step One: Unmanageability (Twelve Steps)

‘And my life has become unmanageable…’ This is clearly an understatement for the life that I have led since birth. I’ve been a loner, a pessimist, an antagonist, a miserable wretch. I’ve been a liar, a cheater, a wallower in my own self-made dispair. I’ve been a walking, talking, babbling brook of disaster.

Step One: Powerlessness (Twelve Steps)

Addiction is the cold war pulling at our heartstrings; each an isolation of its own and all unwilling to reach out in communion with the rest. It’s a cold war that leaves us seething with resentment and anger over the people, places, and things we have no control over.

Enslaved by social norms, jonesing for distraction, obsessed with feel-good moments, fixated on the notion that the whole world revolves around whatever prison we have created for ourselves.

Step Nine: Apologies to my fellow Twitterers (Twleve Steps)

Oh me oh my… Sigh… This may be a little early in my recovery, but I decided to do my first 9th step in response to my distasteful behavior on Twitter. I was recently put on a timeout by the Twitter police for calling someone a moron, thus prompting me to spend twelve whole hours thinking about my savagery and how it affects others. 

Step One: Dicking around with my thumb up my butt (Twelve Steps)

The thumb is a symbol of great power. It represents a vital step in the evolution of man. The anus symbolizes repression, feelings of shame and self-esteem issues. And dicks? Well, I’ll let the reader decide the meaning of that vernacular.

Anyhoo, I’ve been doing a lot of dicking around with my thumb up my but lately. Indulging in pity parties, self-loathing, whining, complaining about everyone and everything, harping on what this one or that one did to me. Basically throwing my hard earned tools of recovery into the fire.