Last night
I cried
In front of a dozen strangers.
I talked about my father.
I told them
I don’t know what to do
With all the emotion.
The last decade
Or longer
Crashes over me-
I am spinning in the current
Blinded by the spray.
I am drowning.
Sobriety is more
Than not drinking.
It’s learning how to live again.
How to do things
Without a bottle in your hand.
It’s fucking terrifying.
I seem to have the guts.
Maybe I’m just used to trials,
Testing myself,
Adding more accomplishments to the list,
More experiences,
More shit I’ve overcome.
Some people, though,
Just can’t be honest.
They are weak.
My father,
He can’t look himself in the eye
And see his flaws,
His shortcomings.
He is comforted by his disorders
[As we all are]
To a point
Where he can’t see past them.
A part of me
Recognizes this,
Has sympathy.
A part of me loves him.
Part of me is livid,
Sick of making excuses,
Mad at myself for caring,
Wishing I could shut it off.
I feel this way
Most of the time.
Back and forth
Between acceptance and rage,
Between the fear of and desire to be vulnerable.
I build up my walls
And tear them back down,
Never sure.
I don’t know how to forgive,
How to let things go.
Just push it down,
Bury it deep.
My head hurts.
It is a spiral staircase,
Twisting and turning
Going on and on forever.
It’s a cemetery
Where the dead are buried
With strings around their wrists
Attached to bells up top
Because they might not
Be truly dead.
I wait for them to awaken.
They never disappoint.
Very strong writing, Cici. Particularly the imagery in the last section, the cemetery. That’s beautifully stated. Keep up the sobriety and the writing and the analysis of life. You’re strong and you can do it!
You are an excellent writer. Few people can put their pain into words as artfully as you do. Stay strong. You have more people who care about you than you will ever know. You DESERVE happiness and love. Don’t chase that rainbow, grab it from the sky and make it your own.