three years

You sit beside me with your half-filled wine glass
and no offense, but I’m not looking at you
I’m considering your beverage’s proximity to me
and how easy it would be to lean over
pick it up and take a sip
never mind that I’ve spent the last three years
fighting the urge to do just that

Destruction is a desire that never
really goes away
it just dissipates to a whisper
instead of a scream

And despite what AA tells me
I’m doing just fine on my own
because while I’m looking at your drink
rolling the memory of it around in my mouth
I’m not drinking it
pre-sobriety I’d have downed it
and looked innocent when you came back
from wherever you’d turned off to
and told you I no idea where your drink had gone

These days I’ve learnt to walk away
despite the whispers of temptation
telling me that just a taste will be okay
fantasies be damned, three years ago
I was so out of control I was
a bottle of wine away from wrapping
someone else’s car around a pole
just so I could escape the voices in my head
that thought death might be a better option
than the vodka-wine obsession I couldn’t
make myself live without

You sit beside me with your half-filled wine glass
and no offense, but I’m not looking at you
I’m looking into the past
remembering just how much
I never want to go back there
(despite what temptation says)

© Indie Adams 2014