by Thom Amundsen
I can still stand there,
feel the pain,
realize just how close I can become
Take a drink, the slow heat flow,
there’s a certain sense of clarity
that first drink blossoms a facade,
dropping money on a strangers table,
a release of tension,
taking one day at a time.
There’s such a reversal in the hypocrisy
I remember hope,
imagine having piece of mind,
in a couple of ounces of smooth.
All this euphoria,
the notion of escape,
a reality I chose to put away,
all of the fantasy with departure,
is standing right here,
ready to open,
the door to hell.
About the Poet
Thom Amundsen is TIR's Poet laureate. He's always looking to find the edge to re-think and re-feel what addiction and recovery is about. Change becomes him. Oh, and this: he's a pretty cool guy. Here's his website.