Wrote this last night while marveling at my not-quite-addictions. Not my best work, so I would appreciate some technical critiques.
Substance
Trying to balance the turmoil
Only substance can save me
One to soothe the raucous fears
Another to extract me from sorrow
The only medication
For my tattered self
The calm, the thrill
Each is bitter, mask it with sweetness
Forget that it’s a sickness
My body’s protests are muffled by my weary brain
Forgetting to warn me that pain is bad
Do not touch the hot stove
Do not slide my finger down the cold edge
Do not examine the precipice
Everything is dangerous
In the end, what will it be
That gets me?
—Adrienne McKay 2010
Adrienne, I read your poem a couple of days ago and have been trying to figure out what to say ever since. I think it's absolutely beautiful, and it captures the nature of addictions quite well. In short, I just really like this poem a lot!
ReplyDeleteThank you very much. Considering I wrote it on the spur of the moment, your comment is very gratifying.
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