Carnage
I stand beside The burning remains Of my past life. Every broken promise, Every lie, Every insult, He ever hurled at me. His t-shirts I slept in, Photographs Of smiling faces With dead eyes. The flames Melt the flesh From his face. It bubbles And wrinkles And sinks into itself, Disappearing into ash. I smirk, The lighter fluid in my hand. I recall Every tear, Especially the last. I stoke the fire Add more accelerant, Stir it around, Laugh. Adrenaline grips me. That broken, Beaten-down girl From 3 months ago Is aflame. She is destructive And powerful And uncontainable. She is an inferno, Devouring herself, To emerge Reborn. I stand amidst the sparks, Breathe in the smoke, Admire the ashes. The carnage is beautiful. I have become the...
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Mommah Never got To see me sober, She saw me In pain, Pretending I was fine. She knew better. I wanted her To feel better about leaving So I faked strength And drank myself Into oblivion. Maybe, to some, My ‘rock bottom’ Doesn’t seem so dark. I have a home, my job, a car. And, for that, I truly am One of the lucky ones. But I’ve been living In my own personal hell For over ten years, In my mind. Trapped And blinded By guilt and regret. Stuck in the chasm Between addiction And allergy. Slowly, Steadily, Self-destructing. Barely perceptible To the naked eye, Like watching grass grow. But mommah knew. I hate That she left this world So burdened. I would give anything Just to see her, Talk to her, One more time. I just want To hold her hand. So, mom, If you’re out...
Read MoreVisceral
I’m cici, And I’m an alcoholic. This is my humble confession. Control, I’ve found, Is a farce. It’s who you allow to dictate to you, Or who you don’t. It’s what you tell yourself When you decide not to eat. Or throw it all back up; It’s bloody cuts All over your body You made yourself Just because You wanted it to show. It’s teary eyes And a stiff drink, It’s a party And a shot glass And waking up empty And telling yourself You like it. Rinse and repeat. I’ve been searching for control All my life. The real truth is, I am powerless. [Step 1.] I am powerless over alcohol And my life has become unmanageable. Tuesday [1.13.15] I got my first chip. I thought I’d feel regret. I thought I’d be ashamed. I was wrong. I felt validated. This thing- it’s a disease. I’m not...
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