Writing Wholeness

On Addictions:

The ache is impossibly, frustratingly familiar

The pattern is only visible in hindsight

I’m told with more therapy I’ll see it sooner

Next time

Must I do this all over again?

Maybe like

The slow burn of a cigarette

The sip of whiskey

The clock reading 0228

Him

I know this is bad for me

But the taste on my lips

The warmth that fills me from my toes to the tip of my nose

Overrides survival instincts

Another lesson?

“I wanted this one to love me”

I cry to her on the phone from the back of an Uber

“He could never love you the way you needed”

She texts me from 1400 miles away

She’s right

But like

Craving nicotine

Withdrawing after another binge

Insomnia

Him

I shake and I toil and I tell myself

Just one more time

Ten more minutes

One more sip

One last drag

Until it kills something inside of me

“Maybe I’ll feel like home to him if I stay warm”

The little girl born into chaos bargains with the universe

But the embers have cooled to black

And my bones have charred

And I’ve bared my soul to the winds and the rain and the ice and the rot

He doesn’t come back

And I’m told to rebuild

Must I do this all over again?

Flick the lighter

Open the bottle

Silence the alarm

Another lesson

Scratched into my teeth