how disturbingly insidious you are.
you must hate me, don't you?
i mean who are you?!

you're playing tricks on me like crazy. that's for certain. and if anything is for certain in our drug-plagued country, then it is this certainty: that you ― the child-like dictator ― want to rule over me.

let me explain to the reader why i am saying so:

an hour ago, i was taking my son to kindergarten. closely to the chest my little daughter eden; sleeping in a baby carrier.

after i had dropped off my son, ideas for new poems were going through my head.

i eventually decided to write a poem on drugs, written from the perspective of various mind-altering substances.

well. fine.

i got home. my wife took eden out from the baby carrier. i was ready to write. only one cigarette first. smoking on the balcony. don't need my kids to inhale toxical fog. and don't need to know them about my smoking habit.

suddenly, out of the blue (no: out of the dark) ―

out of the dark, you made my heart beating faster. my heart was racing. my heart was banging against my chest.
secretly, you creeped through the area between skin and soul.
seconds later, you made it somehow to reach my mind.

inside my head, you were not saying anything. i don't hear voices and i'm not crazy. (that's the second certainty i am gaining from writing this poem.)

you're not a talker, child-like dictator. you're a quiet addict, depressed and scared to speak with others. because you do fear people, closeness and love. you fear them so much that you want to do drugs in order to feel something else than fear. and to numb how afraid of love you are.

a poor creature you are. but your attempt to ****** me quietly today: it failed.

and you know why? because i have friends. and many of these friends have been struggling with their own dictatorships. feel me.

i won't let you make my decisions.
gonna stay clean.

for me. for my family.

adios amigo. don't pressure me like you do. try to love me as i love you.

try to love.
try to.
try.

mikey

www.aa.org
www.na.org
www.ca.org

You don't have to ask for help. Not anyone.
Simply meet them.
In person, online or via phone.

Anonymously and for free.
They are unprejudiced.

the ward physician said
to an addict: YOU are going to relapse
anyhow

the chief resident told
me: if you want to have  
the numbness in your
right shin examined
you are free to leave

my reaction was a
calm one

no resentment because
i found something
inside the rehab
in the addict's stories

in their human faces
i found a healing secret

been living in a rehab
fifth day
telling myself: don't relapse


STAY

I sat there with drink in hand
wondering what I was doing with my life
how could I expect things to change
or to ever make this woman my wife?

Next day I walked into a room
full of people I did not know
but as soon as they told their stories
it was as if I started to glow

"Keep coming back," they said
and so that's exactly what I did
they help me one day at a time
as this addiction, I try to rid

9 months I've gone now
without having poured a drink
all the things they've taught me
it really makes you stop and think

So trust in this new beginning
and the direction I'm heading in
for in these rooms I've found myself
and developed brand new kin

I used to wake up each day
and head straight for the bottle
now I hit my knees and say
thank you for keeping me able

No more blackouts and
no more drunken fights
instead, I get to remember
each and every night

Thank you for my willingness
Thank you for setting me free
Thank you for giving me purpose
Thank you for my sobriety

It takes 9 months to make a baby
but in my 9 months, I've made something else
with all of the odds stacked against me
I've managed to make something of myself

I've made new friendships in place of
the ones I realize are no good for me
opened up my eyes for I was blind
but now there are many things to see

I've made strides towards healing
both my mind and my weary soul
a part of my every day now
I've taken on an entirely different roll

I've lost someone who was my everything
but still got through without a drink
it feels like just yesterday
looking back, time passes in a blink

I've dealt with stress so unimaginable
and spent time in a psychiatric ward
never once when I got out
a drink had I poured

I've been working my steps
I even pray to a Higher Power
although I'll admit that
in the beginning, I was sour

But that has changed as now
I have learned how to be willing
I never knew what feelings
these meetings could bring

Feelings of comfort and belonging
sometimes even happiness and joy
no longer do I need to use
the bottle as a decoy

To walk into a room of people
and know this is where I'm supposed to be
is the most magical feeling
it's so important to me

No bottle could ever convince me
to give that up for only a moment
of numbness and escape that doesn't last
no, the only route must be to confront

I gave up that life 9 months ago
looking back I am so glad I did
I'm healthier now than I was before
and I have a happier kid

9 months to make a baby
9 months of hard work
sobriety put into action
feels like fireworks

Abandoned once again
should've seen it coming
knew this would end
left with a short string.

Abandoned once again
by an authoritative figure
someone I was supposed to call
when I didn't know the answer.

Abandoned once again
by a person, I learned to trust
now I wonder if my
step work is a bust.

Abandoned once again
now I must do the work
to find another sponsor
and hope they're not a ****.

One day at a time, I'll turn it o-ver.
Keeping it simple now, I'm just stay-ing so-ber,
taking what I need/leave all the rest.
My mind will fol-low my body in quest.

HALT!
To turn it o-ver...
...one day at a time, just keeping so-ber.
Taking what I need, leaving all the rest.
My body to fol-low my mind in quest.

One day at a time, I'll turn it over.
Keeping it simple now, I'm just stay-ing so-ber,
taking what I need/leave all the rest.
My mind will fol-low my body in quest.

HALT!
To turn it o-ver...
...one day at a time, just keeping so-ber.
Taking what I need, leaving all the rest.
My body to fol-low my mind in quest.

One day at a time, I'll turn it o-ver. . .

My addiction likes to play games with me

I try to hide, but it seeks me

On every occasion, or party

I want to just stay home-

***** it out with a pillow

Till it stops breathing

As I watch too much TV,

Count the drinks on the screen

Like counting sheep

3 pints of *****

2 beers

1 shot of whiskey

I feel myself changing

Between shifts, with no breaks in between

Some work overtime, I hear my addiction breathing-

3 PINTS OF *****

2 BEERS

1 SHOT OF WHISKEY

I would tell you all about it

But it’s a long story,

All guts and no glory

I can only talk about it when I’m drunk

On too early of a morning

Or when my eyes are stuck

On a ceiling fan, when I spin with the room

Words are fluid- like, they used to be

Now my lips are a broken cocoon

The words die behind a prison of teeth

Just old ideas, dead memories

That no one needs to hear or see

Sorry I won’t be seeing you at any parties

Sorry I won’t spill my guts for free

Or wait for you to wave to me

Hit me with the “how are you doing?”
    
Its not that I want to hide from you,

But my anxiety is looking for bullet wounds

Addiction hides in the skin

Of the people across the room

They have been shooting looks at me,

Every eye blinking my direction is lightning

Its striking me; how frightening

How fragile I can be, I’m sorry

Maybe that’s why

I plug myself into a wall

I stitch my mouth shut

And scream through the keyboard

Because I don’t want you to stop reading,

Or stop listening,

Just because

You don’t see me

At parties