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A Story About Addiction

In the program, she’s washing her addiction away.
Meanwhile, she’s not focused
not living in the now,
the present,
or even really the future.
She’s completely absent,
distant,
dormant,
not existing,
not listening,
resisting this hell hole of whoever, not she
calls a life,
God only knows.
Now she’s froze
unable to doze,
can’t sleep,
can’t eat,
can’t weep.
All she can do is sink
further and further down deep
in this shit hole;
kiddies don’t forget this:
you reap what you soe.
She lost her license
only way to go
and get to school and back
popping too many pills.
People don’t realize
that shit kills.
Popped 30 xanaxes
and fell into blackness
she’s breathless on the gurney,
thank God she bumped the car in front of her
or else she could be stuck half way round a tree.
And thank God the cop was not a dirty pig
or else she could’ve been snapped like a twig
in the jail cell
but only because she’s too fucked up
otherwise there’s gonna be a mix up
and someone’s gonna get their face cut up
cuz she’s a fighter and you’re gonna be tussled up.
Her mother had to fight to survive
her daughters barely arrived in this world
cuz their mom had a husband that liked to beat his wife
and as he put the gun to her head
she almost wound up dead
if it wasn’t for God
that told the angel
to pick her up
He said that’s enough
I’ve got plans for this woman
she’s gotta be tough
cuz the roads gonna be rough.
And she’s gonna have another daughter
and she’s gonna grow up to be a writer
and people are gonna read her shit
and some will admit
that they got it better than she had it
and maybe life’s not so bad
maybe if you could just not get mad
every time life doesn’t give you your way,
and maybe if you could just not get sad
every time you have a bad day.
Cuz life’s not all roses and sunshine,
every rose has its thorn
and sunshine can burn.
Maybe if you could just get past this pattern
of waking up and getting out of bed
and only feeling dread
of being embarrassed or rejected
or of being alone
or of breaking a bone
or of your loved ones not coming home,
or of dying.
Or maybe you’re afraid of ending up in a jail cell
or of getting expelled
or fired from your job as the economy’s in deep,
or maybe you’re afraid of going to sleep.
Tell me are you afraid to dream?
Or maybe you’re fat or anorexic and afraid to eat.
Or maybe you’re afraid of not being redeemed of your sins.
Tell me do you believe in hell?
Well what do you believe in?
That’s your problem,
you believe in nothing,
you don’t even know yourself.
But I understand,
it’s hard to believe in a world
that’s covered in sin.
People murdering and raping and stealing,
and dying for their religion,
terrorists dropping bombs,
9/11.
Oh Lord, please let me go to heaven.
But anyways,
we’ve gotten off the subject.
Meanwhile the daughter’s best friend leaves her,
and she goes back to high school.
She feels like an actor,
places places
cuz kids are cruel.
So she just shrinks in her seat,
trying to be cool and to be discreet.
She’s silent,
just waiting for the bell to ring,
counting the minutes,
the seconds,
until she can get the fuck out of there,
and be herself again,
cuz she’s not herself here.
She feels like she’s not herself anywhere,
one step forward
three steps back
patience is a trait she lacks
she feels like she’s about to blow,
all she’s hearing is echo echo.
She’s angry
she’s pissed,
she’s tired of this shit.
All she wants right now is to get a hit of something hard
or at least let her pop some pills,
and not one, two, three, or four.
How about ten? Maybe a couple more.
Give her some xanax, somos, roxys, neurotins,
come on man please tell me that you got some.
Her sister’s stuck in outreach,
listening to someone preach
that drugs are bad.
It makes her mad
her sister’s getting better,
while she’s getting worse.
It’s a complete reverse
her sister was the devil
she was the angel,
she was the one who was supposed to be special.
Go to college, write a book,
but the only thing she can write is some fucked up shit.
Can’t you write something happy?
Her father asked her.
No Dad, cuz I’m not fucking happy,
she answered.
And it hurts to open up her heart,
but how the hell else does she release the feelings inside of her?

(2011)

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