recovery

Seconds

Sitting on the couch, Watching the scale slide high, Bigger than a pine cone, Taller than a pine tree, Heavier than pine cream tea, Mixed in heavy canned cream, Steamy, wafting high in empty air, Dreams, hitting in the solarplex, Indiscriminate, judging me till I blow up, Caught up in jail house thoughts, Tree’s falling…

Drowned

I’d quit, but I’m afraid I’m done down, That hill, a bottle short and dry throat, Hit after hit, lost in a dry bin, Short a dollar, or a dollar short, A bit of hay, a match in the stack, Burning down my life, drowning down town, Bars entrapped me, pots and pans consumed me,…

Recovery is a long process of traversing valleys and mountains. When I start climbing my mountains I have a choice to use the tools that I’ve earned through therapy and life lessons, or to climb it using my own devices. Devices being depression, self-doubt, pity, low self-esteem, anger, and self-abuse through talking down about myself. …