“Without Intoxicant.”

I had no one to give up on me
Only myself.

My fists and head, bloodied
Bashing that same wall.

Caged animals aren’t as distressed
As the evil I let prevail within my four walls.

Watered down attempted suicide
Each and every night
Though I wrote it off, on repeat.

Fully legal and encouraged
Never packaged as a means of death.

Like depressing the plunger on a syringe
I let that poison into my veins.

I brought that enemy into my home
And gave it the key to my soul.

I should have died a thousand times
And my family should have buried me.

But like a prisoner of war
Climbing out of his hole
I found the key to my shackles!

With the guard subdued, I took my freedom back.
On bleeding elbows and knees, I clawed my way out of oblivion.

Each step is cushioned by clouds.
If you ask, I can fly.

Almost one year clean after two decades of struggle.
And only I will ever know how sweet the victory is.

My life is back in my hands where it belongs
And I shall never lose its grip again.

-An ode to my nine months sobriety, February 8.

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