First Year

I feel like I am on parole

I have to do this the rest of my days

Better than the prison I could go back to

Dark hate filled angry cave

Different as a butterfly emerging from it chrysalis

Al Capone died from syphilis

Don’t have to worry about that one

I can’t fuck, fix, or fight

It’s not about the things I can’t do

I got one more day without a drink

There was a time one year ago today

That was impossible to think

Rage pervaded every cell in me

Strung out on anger all the time

Suicide & murder were viable options

If you get away; it’s not a crime

My brain still is crazy

Sleep is something I still dream about

I am comfortably lazy

Don’t have to keep up the charade any more

I have learned how to cry

Connected with my son

Seems one leads to the other

Love is like a gun

I can’t do it again

I the way I have done it before

I have another drunk in me

another recovery isn’t something I could endure