deepundergroundpoetry.com
Make it Today
Destruction awaited at my life’s initiation, restrained, but contemplatin my annihilation, though consciously I couldn’t yet glimpse it, when difficulty arose my human frailty exerted itself, I had a feeling of undeniable illness
Resilience is more easily ascertained as a youth, when brain chemistry’s more malleable, irresolute
All future opportunities remain attainable, but I lacked encouragement and mentorship, my attempts at achievement heeded no result
[chorus]
Couldn’t deal with it sober, so I sedated it away, crushed it up, injected it – ingested it any fuckin way
Long-term thinking wasn’t on the horizon, every day I rolled the dice on my own survival, told ‘em,
“You wanna see me? Better make it today.”
“Addict” and “junkie” echoed in my mind, my decline was obvious, health ste’ly declined, responses ranged from compassion to rage, unhappiness pervaded, all I wanted was to meet up
with people who “used” to relieve the pain
Rehab, then more treatment and therapy, I was emphatically cast out of society, two groups formed out of my associates, those who sought recovery and those who said “Fuck it, we only got one life, let’s get high
Not struggle and keep fightin’ it”
[chorus]
Stole money for drugs, was a motherfuckin grifter, compulsively lied, was overtly despised – for the life I threw away, and for how goddam often I caused everyone palpable dread: I was an absolute menace, world at large def’nly wished I was dead
I was down and out completely, family had done their absolute best, I wasn’t deserving of love, but they still gave me their heartfelt affection…I somehow survived, and over time cultivated a defined sense of purpose, I decided “I’m ready to take responsibility, do right by all of ‘em.”
It was time for sobriety, no more sedation, track marks began to fade, nose was more capable of inhalation,
I formed a plan, wasn’t grand or exemplary, clean living was enough
I could then say, “S’ok if you can’t make it today: I’ll be here, appreciating my existence.”
Word to all those doing their best, drugs will get ya in a stranglehold, you need to do whateva it takes, 12 steps, clean friends and a sponsor…stay close to fam if you can, bottom line
(For real) “Don’t be found on the floor.”
Resilience is more easily ascertained as a youth, when brain chemistry’s more malleable, irresolute
All future opportunities remain attainable, but I lacked encouragement and mentorship, my attempts at achievement heeded no result
[chorus]
Couldn’t deal with it sober, so I sedated it away, crushed it up, injected it – ingested it any fuckin way
Long-term thinking wasn’t on the horizon, every day I rolled the dice on my own survival, told ‘em,
“You wanna see me? Better make it today.”
“Addict” and “junkie” echoed in my mind, my decline was obvious, health ste’ly declined, responses ranged from compassion to rage, unhappiness pervaded, all I wanted was to meet up
with people who “used” to relieve the pain
Rehab, then more treatment and therapy, I was emphatically cast out of society, two groups formed out of my associates, those who sought recovery and those who said “Fuck it, we only got one life, let’s get high
Not struggle and keep fightin’ it”
[chorus]
Stole money for drugs, was a motherfuckin grifter, compulsively lied, was overtly despised – for the life I threw away, and for how goddam often I caused everyone palpable dread: I was an absolute menace, world at large def’nly wished I was dead
I was down and out completely, family had done their absolute best, I wasn’t deserving of love, but they still gave me their heartfelt affection…I somehow survived, and over time cultivated a defined sense of purpose, I decided “I’m ready to take responsibility, do right by all of ‘em.”
It was time for sobriety, no more sedation, track marks began to fade, nose was more capable of inhalation,
I formed a plan, wasn’t grand or exemplary, clean living was enough
I could then say, “S’ok if you can’t make it today: I’ll be here, appreciating my existence.”
Word to all those doing their best, drugs will get ya in a stranglehold, you need to do whateva it takes, 12 steps, clean friends and a sponsor…stay close to fam if you can, bottom line
(For real) “Don’t be found on the floor.”
Published 25th Aug 2022
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Anonymous
25th Aug 2022 10:18am
"living was enough" Though I don't struggle with drugs, life in general is battle. Completely understand this. Awesome write!
