The monsters under our beds turn to monsters in our heads

The ghosts in the attic become the ghosts of past loves

Pain was a broken leg that soon became a fight to the death with your mind

Shots were something we got so we didnt get sick but they turned to needles littering the ground

Medicine was tylonal we took when we had a cough now its pills we pop to forget life

we went from cutting paper into works of art to ripping our own skin apart into a crimson mess

yelling was what you did at the playground now it's what happens when when you can't stand living

Bruises would come from falling off the monkeybars now they come from those you think love you

shots were from soda caps and giggles that turned to sneaking out and getting wasted to forget

What happend to those kids whoes eyes were full of hope

What happened to those kids who wanted to grow up

Your memories are a poem
Presented to me at the end of the bar.
Alone & fleeting; an escape from reality.
Wanting to take part in the meeting
Of strangers; A variety of faces exchanging
****** temptation disguised as liquid courage.
Chased by the thought of not being alone
Your memories are a poem
Refilled soon as it's emptied. Wished away,
Wanting to be pursued
In exchange for monetary currency.
Bad ideas that roam the ideology of good,
You fill me, I feel you.
I stand & I stumble around the thought of you.
You start to leave me soon as I start to feel you

I thought everything was clean
Not when you’re a dry drunk
Things aren’t what they seemed
I only desire the calm, live like a monk

I thought everything was okay
Souls all around me, cleansing together
Not with a dry drunk, not today
I don’t know what’s going to happen, how do you capture

I thought I knew what was going on but I’ve fallen
Down in the well, feels like a freezing hell
Sitting there minding my own but the sadness just has to crawl in
Oh, well from what I hear I can’t dwell

I thought you were going to do better
I think a lot of things, most of them not still but racing
I write to you sometimes in my poems that become letters
My heart constantly pacing and my mind repairing itself and tracing

I thought you loved yourself and me
Dry drunk, no role model
I feel like a book falling apart by the seem
You always find yourself at the bottom of a bottle

I thought you had more to offer
And you do, you’re not always the dry drunk
God watches over you and I love her
A sense now of belonging, good luck.

When I am
thirsty
I drink
pure cool water
and I feel
"aaahhh!!!"
a relief of thirst;

I feel
Drinking-Water-Joy,
I feel
Drinking-Water-Joy-Happy.

The morning light shines through the blinds
My eyes squint shut trying to stop the pain.
Head pounding, throbbing, sharp pins and needles
Memory gone, complete darkness.
What happened last night?
I don't dare ask my friends for fear of what they might bring to light.
I remember the sips of tequila on my tongue,
I can still taste it.
Dancing all night long,
Then it's all black.
I cannot remember when I left the bar,
Or how I got home.
What I did in those few hours,
I cannot remember.
I look in the bathroom mirror and see a cut on my forehead.
How did that get there?
Sure, I had a long, painful relationship with alcohol in the past.
I was a lightweight learning her limits,
And some of my worst memories involved alcohol consumption.
I used alcohol as a coping mechanism but it only made my problems worse.
No matter how hard I tried,
I still could not figure out how I injured myself.
Tears rush down my face in frustration.
Drinking was no longer fun.
I was no longer proud of who I was.
The tequila taste in my mouth making me gag in disgust,
Disgust with myself.
No longer would I let alcohol continue to destroy my life.
Sobriety is hard but my memory and wellbeing is more important than being intoxicated.

~ sdr

Choked up with existential angst
Soften the bitterness with a drink
The cold liquid helps the truth stay down
Hoping that a drunk mind can't think
My thoughts heavy like lead
They sink just below the surface
Low enough where they make no sound
But can still make me feel worthless
What kind of human does it make me
When I don't know how to feel my feelings
The most basic form of existence
That I struggle with dealing
In all of my issues
I know drugs aren't the answer
They won't make anything easy
But they make me feel better

***** sheets
twenty dollar hotel room
she has
fire red hair
stained yellow teeth
reeks of last nights gin
and when she
opens
her legs
I see God

everything
is perfect
we have
nothing to say