Saturday 10/29/2005 11:25:00 PM

It's in the later hours that the realization assumes. You know just what you've done. And what's been done to you. And you wonder if any of it could ever be amended.

You drink because you think it will bring out some truth you can't discover otherwise. But so many beers later you've still nothing to show for your sacrifice. Except a cloudy head and careless fingers.

I want to feel. I want to know. I want to write. But the more I pursue it the less it is within my grasp.

Some nights the words comes easy. Others they don't come at all. Proving once again that I am at their mercy. Not they at mine.

Some nights I drink far too much. And the words they try, but can't understand. Other nights I can't drink nearly enough. Because it's all so very clear. And that's the one thing I can't stand.

Yesterday I was too sober. Tonight I'm much too alcoholic. Perhaps tomorrow will know better what to make of me. Until then, I am what I am.

And what I am is just this. Open bottle. Dry lips sucking on.

3 comments:
Anonymous said...

I love an alcoholic. He means the world to me, yet I feel powerless against it. I am losing him to alcohol and my heart is dying with him. What can you suggest that I do or not do? He is not ready to seek help.

alcoholic poet said...

um, dang... that's not a fun place to be. i feel for you.

i appreciate your question and wish i could be of more help, but for me to give advice to you, someone i don't even know, on a topic of such major importance would be wrong. what if i gave you the wrong advice and ruined your life. that would be bad.

you should talk to your family or close friends. only they're qualified to help you ruin your life. (just kidding) but seriously, if you need help with this talk to somone who knows you and understands you.

good luck.

Anonymous said...

thanks...best of luck on your journey. i hope you find peace through your art and you begin to see your talent and worth.



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