tearing down the destructionist
By past tense
i told her i would try
i didn't say when-
or how hard.
so here i sit. sweat pouring
and the shakes are the least of my problems.
but
i'm distracted
by someone else's thoughts
dripping unfiltered
in the back room:
percolating,
perserverating,
per...fuck.
--i need to focus.
and i told her i would try
but i didn't say when-
or how hard.
so i sit. here.
in different words-
speaking the same sentences
because i didn't make a promise
to be better.
and focus is the last of my concerns.
because these shakes
- they're rattling my foundations
and i'm trying.
but i never said i wouldn't fail.
she's tapping an impatient fingernail
inside my skull
with every breath
scraping tally marks for the minutes
i've been
clean
or something.
So I sit. Spine straight.
Reclaiming some semblance
of capital structure
and I told her
I'm done trying.
Comments on "tearing down the destructionist"
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A former member wrote:
holy crap....i definitely relate to this....although i could never put it into the exquisite way you painted the picture....i wish i could fave this....when i can i will...thank you for writing this and helping with my struggle.....**** and a standing ovation.....-rc/\ol
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On Sunday, May 13, 2012, FadedBlues
(2096) wrote:
...'different words, same sentences': trying to speak in a sober tongue, but the old desires remain...this is the song of 1 not quite resolute in his intent to escape the destruction.
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On Saturday, May 12, 2012, OLd SouL
(717) wrote:
hoping its a done trying and just start doing. I often find myself saying trying when in fact I'm not really trying at all.. otherwise something would change or be done and it'd be noticed. 'scraping tally marks for the minutes'- like the particular section the most.
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On Saturday, May 12, 2012, Nehema
(958) wrote:
Very good - those of us that have struggled with addiction understand the horrifying reality of the emotion behind this piece. I look forward to reading more of your work - thanks for sharing.
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On Saturday, May 12, 2012, Carmina Gitana
(149) wrote:
Reading this felt like sitting alone in your favorite bar after closing time, and hearing the perfect song coming on . . . loved the first stanza, and the repetition of it. A beautiful diagram of the thinking man's addiction.
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A former member wrote:
Love is a side thing; but I sure love this poem