courtesy t rin
Your mother had a “problem”
Your gramps had one too
but somehow you thought
that just a little taste wouldn’t
ever control you.
they had lacked will power
but you were a different make
you could handle whatever amount you bought
handle every amount it pleased you to take
...there were a few instances,
you would freely admit
that after the day’s end you’d hideaway
just to take a hit,
only after the fact to ponder
why was it you needed to hide...
if indeed you still had a handle on
your well controlled life?
and here you are
as they were
trying to prove to yourself you could do without
but your normal has changed
your body knows this quite well
and all the water you drink can’t shake
this bothersome dryness from your mouth
And here you are
as they were
fingers damp and trembling
ribs that seem tightened with each anxious breath
but never mind all that
you still insist that you don’t need any help
because help would mean
that in the end you were just like them
that you would have a label to confront
...you’d have to confront yourself
but its easier to lie
vaguely through your lips
though if uncensored
they’d have a different story to tell
but the honesty that
breaks your body down would have
to be held for you refuse to ever
call yourself that word
that seems so harsh
and all at once helpless
The word that your body
has already admitted
and here you are shaking
all of you yearning
for the taste of...
refusing to admit you’re
Addicted.
My Inspiration: Addiction
© KohylahPiper 2016
