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Addiction Poem about Family

My father was an alcoholic. Although, at times, I hated him, I always loved him more. As I got older I thought the experience had given me a degree of strength and resilience. I always told myself that I would never end up like my father, good man though he was. As it turns out, I did become my father, for better and worse. Genes, experience and personal laziness trapped me before I knew it. This is my attempt at sober release.

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I just gave birth to our second baby ..he was not present during the delivery. I also found out he is still talking to his ex wife and that she too is a meth addict. He was the man of my...

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Circling The Drain

Published by Family Friend Poems January 2011 with permission of the Author.

I walk daily through the same haze
I know I have lost my way.
I feel the wet grass beneath my feet
But the bent blades are gray.

The grass doesn't bounce back like it should.
Footsteps remain and the lawn has lost its luster.
I would take all twelve steps if I could
But two or three is all I can muster.

Although the drops are light,
The rain drops that fall on my shoulders,
I am overcome by weight and fright.
Those drops, they pelt me like boulders.

I grip the bottle with shaking hands
And pray for color to return to my life.
I take a sip, making my ludicrous demands,
While my floating mind thinks of gripping a knife.

But I don't want to end it all
And so I look at the sky.
In between dark clouds the sun is at ball.
A small sliver of golden light stops, then dances by.

As I imagine, a cloud takes the shape of my son.
My beautiful boy is smiling wide.
The sight makes me want to both stay and run
But usually I just want to hide.

Therefore I wait, not yet ready to quit.
Not yet ready to start either,
So I take another hit.
Tomorrow I think...tomorrow will be better.

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