Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Crimes and Misdemeanors Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Monday 10/31/2005 10:59:00 PM

How much can I write about my alcohol habits before I start repeating myself or just get bored? Guess I'll find out. For the uninducted into this union, like any such organization, there are high dues to pay and scary, imposing leaders that intimidate you. They're all kinda in your head, but very real nonetheless.

There's the loud voices telling you you'll never last the night without us. You'll cave at 2 in the morning and be worse off than if you'd just. Or you'll never write anything worthwhile again. It'll all be lame drivel.

Has it always been? Isn't always? I can no longer tell.

There's the soft voice saying what's the harm, You don't miss work. You're not mean. You're different, but better. Remember how it used to be. All that anger. All that thinking you'd never feel better. Well, here I am and now you do. And it's just a night. When it's dark and you're alone and there's no one else who'll be with you.

And then there's my own voice. And the others are so dominate now that I can't even make out what it's saying anymore. Or if it even cares.

The one thing that comes to mind at this moment is that I remember seeing someone grow much older very quickly. He drank a lot and I can't prove, but would guess the alcohol played a part. And I'm not what you'd call a shallow person. Didn't care how he looked, just how he behaved. And I'm not in the market for attracting any potential mates, but even still, I don't want to grow old fast. Simply because I don't want to advertise to the world that I'm doing something to cause that.

I always figured before the alcohol that pain and sadness and loss were what made you older quicker. And that's probably true. Just all of those things go hand in hand with abuse of drugs and alcohol. If you're happy what need is there to escape yourself. Only trouble is, if you're not, and you choose this, it's not so much an escape as it is a different prison.

I'm only a victim of myself, I know. But even still, I don't feel any less helpless or any less violated than I would if someone else were to blame for what I've become.

1 comments:
writerwoman said...

It is brave of you to share your thoughts on your struggle with alcoholism. In your words I found echoes of myself even though I don't have the same affliction.




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