Steps

 

The sun pounds down mercilessly on the slumdog backs of broken men
Slumped over from the shear weight  of hard days
Deliverance has turned its cheek
Ennui has slowed their stride to a crawl
They lament
They remember the first time vice turned their noble gaze from virtue
Setting their hearts to wander Golgotha
Shame making memory hateful
It circles their mind warning that madness could strike
Bringing back that old urge
The depravity they once held so close
Times when their shaking hands gripped self destruction
When those hands in the cold state of delirium tremmor
Extended  wearily
aching to lacerate the pale blue of  jugular beat that gives life to morality

Unforgiving, yes
Punishing
Brutal
The mind goes limp
Mush
And Comme il faut be damned

But to have one more sip.......
It would be heaven

And the gate to hell

I take my seat at the head of the table and help remind them....
"K guys its noon!"
"Hi my name is Jen and I'm an alcoholic"
"Mark....you wanna read first...."

Non fiction
However....names changed for anonymity