deepundergroundpoetry.com
Sober
A week. Just a week. It will be worth it.
It will be worth the darkness, the headaches, the question that dare asks, "Will I make it to Wednesday?"
Well friend, I did.
The pain is a phantom and it is time to rebuild.
Her brain is sore by the shackles of Rx. Nothing a sobering massage can't handle.
The locks are broken and her mind will open once again.
She will never question her abilities to make a name for herself.
I may be her only friend, but I'm the only one who gave her reason.
The reason: I love her.
It will be worth the darkness, the headaches, the question that dare asks, "Will I make it to Wednesday?"
Well friend, I did.
The pain is a phantom and it is time to rebuild.
Her brain is sore by the shackles of Rx. Nothing a sobering massage can't handle.
The locks are broken and her mind will open once again.
She will never question her abilities to make a name for herself.
I may be her only friend, but I'm the only one who gave her reason.
The reason: I love her.
Published 7th Apr 2021
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