Twenty Five

Twenty Five

A year ago today, I published a poem along with text messages from my father, outing him as an abuser and an alcoholic who refuses to take responsibility for his actions. I was always there for him and remain unappreciated. I have forgiven him for what he has done to me. What I cannot forgive is what he said about my mother. And I learned from him, and took a step forward, and haven’t spoken to him since. Read “Father Dearest” here. I’ve spent a lot of time in the rooms of AA. Try as I might I couldn’t get my head around a higher power, and around having to give up drinking for the rest of my life at the age of twenty-three. I viewed it as an ending and as a compromise of my ideals. I first entered AA in January of 2014. I went to meetings, went to...

Read More

Linear

Linear

Healing Is not linear. People seem to forget that. It’s so easy to believe the bad- To make a snap judgement When someone in recovery, Or you, yourself, Falls off, picks up, Or makes a bad decision. Sobriety Does not promise An easy life Or immediate, Significant, Changes. It does not mean That you’re healed Or that this journey Will ever have an end. A recovering addict Will be in recovery Until they die. It requires work And vigilance But also love And forgiveness And acceptance. It means loving yourself More than your illness. Addiction is a sickness, Substance abuse the symptom. There are many steps, Many interior factors, That go into picking up Your drug of choice. There are mental patterns To be changed And broken And rebuilt, differently. How do you fight...

Read More

You’re Not Decent [Eve]

You’re Not Decent [Eve]

What if you woke up one day with no knowledge of who you were? This original short story explores how we would feel about our bodies without societal pressure- if we didn’t know our ‘flaws’ were flaws.     I’m not exactly sure where I am. There’s a draft coming in from the open window, the sun is shining. I see dust particles shimmer through the air as I throw back the covers. I think I should be afraid, but what I feel is more wonder than terror. I jump back in surprise when I pass a window. But it’s not a window, it’s a mirror. I don’t recognize me. Who am I? My hair is disheveled, messy ringlets fall out of what’s left of a ponytail. My body feels cushiony and soft and warm. I am pleasantly fuzzy- the sun shines across my hairy...

Read More

Geordie

Geordie

I can get to the grocery store By myself now. I can basically Negotiate the metro. I have a grasp Of the currency. I mostly understand The accents And smile politely As people regale me With all of their America Trivia. I’ve used the phone- Dialing a zero first, Though it’s the opposite Of all I’ve been taught. I made the first pitcher Of sweet iced tea That’s ever been seen In the Northeast, Or maybe the whole of Britain, And I’ve explained what it is To the locals, Looks of disgust on their faces. [Tea isn’t yours, Brits, You stole it from China.] Today I bought a Snickers bar Because it reminded me of home. Here, They’ll put corn on pizza, And on a tuna sandwich. Their traffic patterns Seem counter intuitive And I look both ways A million times Before I cross...

Read More

Better than Yesterday

Better than Yesterday

Today, I’m in North Carolina. I woke up Surrounded by family, Drank coffee with my Mema, Did some more unpacking. I live here now. Today Marks five years since mommah died. The words are harder to come by As time passes. It’s been almost a year Since I left my ex, Since I was on my own For the first time. Since then I’ve focused on my sobriety, Gained and lost jobs, Moved three times, Got a new car, Learned what love really means, And seen the world. I carry her with me Everywhere I go. She was at the Grand Canyon with me, Watching the sunset. She saw Ireland and England for the first time Out of an airplane window. She ate tacos from a food truck in London, Rode the Metro, Saw a play. Her ring is always on my finger And her love is always in my heart. I want to...

Read More