alcoholic crucifixion

Ouch! This one made me cringe within. I have been addicted
to just about every drink and drug as there is. My crucifixion
happened for two decades on the mean streets of America. I
understand this poem as only a misplaced human can be in
this old world. How I survived? Good question. I haven't the
answer. I look back on those bad days and understand that I
came away from those mean streets a better man and one
who retained a depth of understanding that not everyone has.
This one TOUCHED me, Brenda!

thank you Jerry for understanding this write sorry about the cringe.. so happy you found your way out.. you have a kind soul.. knowing this touched you makes me feel better.. knowing I'm not just writing for myself.. if nothing else to let people they are not alone in their struggles..  
 
love Brenda

I'm always drawn to your drug and alcohol war stories.  In the end I'm always hoping for a happy ending, but know it's unlikely.  We write to share the pain and the struggle somehow hoping for an answer,  or at the very least a comment from someone who has been there.  Feel this one. ...

xx

thank you Poet though I do drink way too much this one is a bit of poetic license.. I am an alcoholic not just to the extreme expressed here..

love you..

xoxo Brenda

This is so poetically beautiful Brilliant as always 😁

thank you graciously DC :)

love Crim

Precious Crim......this brought back memories in time.......I can relate to this longing and healing thru a bottle.......I lived this for many years......sending you purple luv & hugs xo :)

thank you Flower I do often find redemption in a bottle..

love Crim

My Beautiful Brenda...your struggles and the honesty in which you write about them have always brought me to knees....from the very beginning...you will always have me there before you admiring your strength because despite your demons, you never give up....telling them to fuck off after you've once again dusted yourself off...never lose that strength lovely one...not only for you but also for the rest of us...

I love you

Xoxo Taryn

thank you my beautiful one I do struggle with this vice just not quite as bad as expressed in this write..

I love you..

xoxo Brenda

"Scouring the garden ...no discards" - perfect!

thank you Whale..

love Crim

so much torment in your poem, Crim.
maybe there is refuge in the garden...

thank you John yes the garden is lovely..

love Crim

Didn't get the title at the start... but it made perfect sense to me by the end

thank you kindly for  reading me..

love Crim

Brenda.. this is brilliantly written.. and shares some of the dark shadows, in the minds of all addicts.. the demons that hide in every corner, speaking in code to those who haven't been there.. but clear as day, to those who know the drill.. love you!!



Dave

thank you Dave knew you would get this write..

love Brenda

You catch the syndrome well Crim.  The morning after is hell.  There's that desperate search for relief.  The bottle or drug might be located for a moment's peace, but then the cycle begins once again, another crucifixion.  This is very well written Crim, unflinching and honest.  .

thank you Sir Crow when it comes to drugs and alcohol we are crucified again and again..

love Crim

Brenda, I find myself running my finger across beautiful old scars on your lovely body. You write of fighting your shadow so boldly, and it's a gorgeous and inspiring thing to witness....xo

thank you lovely Rain for delving in the darkness with me..

love Brenda

Crimson, loved the beginning statement

she blithely looked out the window          
as the raw day chewed glass

and its close as well...

redemption within it's curse

<3 dkruie

thank you kindly Dkruie :)

love Crim