The Story of a Recovering Addict

Disclaimer: The next series of posts are poems I wrote a long time ago (hence the dates and times). They were posted on my xanga site when they were initially written. I don't know why the hell I've decided to bring them here, other than I wanted to. With that said, be easy...

For days, weeks, months, and even years...you were the rush in my veins that put to rest all of my fears. I could pick you from a crowd a mile away, and when someone else would come with another offer, I'd tell 'em, "nah that's alright; not even on my WORST day."

Because you were one-of-a-kind. The effect you've had on others had no comparison on what you did to me. When you came through, I'd beg for you to stay, and when you were gone, I'd sit alone at night wishing you never went away.

I stood out in the cold with no coat for you, waited patienty in the rain with no hood for you, and got into it with others in my life...from the effects of you.

I would get sick if I didn't have my fix, draw up blood if I aimed for it and missed, curse myself relentlessly for having made you frown, and cry myself a million tears, and wouldn't attempt to make 'em stop...I'd simply drown...drown and hope to never come up, wish to simply stay there, wish...to be gone.

So why wish for something like this? Why wait and crave for something if gives me this feeling? After all this time, I've conquered the toughest drug to recover from...I recovered from being in love. Yet with all that...

why am I eager to experience all of this...again?

12/12/06 @ 12:22 A.M.

Photo by Clifton Henri