deepundergroundpoetry.com

Shame

   
I hold back shame tears    
as I walk through    
the door and    
stand in front of    
of the white chip basket    
   
The Day 1 basket,    
and hate myself.    
   
My message tinged    
and I looked at it    
for spined minutes    
   
I remembered    
how damn strong    
I felt yesterday    
how affirmed,    
and supported,    
and cared for    
I was    
   
and how much I didn’t    
want to feel like    
Detox day 1 again    
   
But he ….    
   
I want him.    
Like speed snorted    
in a dirty bathroom.    
I want the him I thought I had.    
   
the fairytale in the magic forest    
the snow globe    
the crazy, funny, hot, mundane    
   
I want the high    
knowing how low    
   
how low    
   
I end up when I come down    
   
and fuck,    
he makes me feel so low    
   
Just like any drug    
he’s a lie    
and just like any addict    
I know it.    
And crave it anyway.    
   
I’m in love with the idea    
of us,    
with a version of us    
that never existed    
outside of my sick hope    
and vivid imaginings    
   
In love with the hope    
the potential    
(the lie)    
   
But I am in love.    
   
And I’m the stupidest smart person    
you’ll ever meet when I’m    
twisted around on love.    
   
so I screamed venom,    
slammed fuck you    
and never-contact-me-again    
against his chest    
as he recreated history    
and pulled his    
sketchy magic while I watched    
   
and I raged at his existence    
   
and spread him on    
the table anyway    
   
pinched his    
bullshit into a    
small pile to    
snort raw    
   
and I rolled around 
in his voice telling me    
how much    
I thought    
he loved me  
as I made a white    
mustache and beat my    
fist on the table    
   
waiting the the    
burn    
to turn    
to bliss.    
   
waiting for the high to hit.    
   
   
   
   
it didn’t    
   
   
   
   
so I’m here again    
   
Just another junkie    
holding back my shame tears    
picking up a white chip    
before I sit in a seat    
and hate myself some more    
   
I turn the chip over    
and over    
like a magician with a    
trick coin    
   
and hold tight to    
   
day 1.    
   
   
   
   
Day 1.    
 
Written by Betty
Published | Edited 6th Jun 2024
Author's Note
Day 1 no contact.
And… go
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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