Poetry Blogs (sobriety)
Pooja Thole on The Ayes Have It (2 hours ago)
the devil sat on my shoulder today and asked me why Ichanged, why I acted this way. Honestly, I replied, Im tired of the anger. Looking back at the withdrawn girl, shes a stranger. Im deserving of a willing personality, instead of wallowing in my own self-pity. She asked me dont you miss the lust, disagreeing id rather involve myself in a way of trust. Greedy the serpent showed disrespect. With my...
Wednesday 15th January 2020 9:59 am
I long to choose at my descretion
share my stories and teach lessons
to drive my car freely around
and to be scholarly, medical bound
loving myself and attending to my needs
servicing others and doing good deeds
how I dream of all the goals ill achieve
and all of the praise and good fortune ill recieve
from despair to hope I look for the future
taking back and repairing ...
Wednesday 15th January 2020 9:45 am
Is sobriety killing my creativity?
Or is it better off this way?
It's hard to find some comfort in this
When all I know is pain
I couldn't go on much longer
With the way I was feeling inside
But who am I now that I'm sober?
Loss of identity will reside
Let me feel the lines of your hands
From your finger tips on down
I don't know how to fix me
But your skin is safe and sound
Thursday 21st November 2019 8:22 pm
How do you help
loved ones that
with the demon
I want to scold
them like a child
for their own good,
but I know it
on deaf ears.
I want to hold them
tight, tell them
be alright, but
they aren't buying
Is my only option
to waltz around
my candy-coated world
and watch them
Friday 1st February 2019 8:32 pm
I'm losing my mind,
I'm flipping the script,
On this sobriety shit,
I can't get a grip,
The truth hurts,
But it sets us free,
Its holding me back,
I just wanna scream,
The tracks that I have,
And the scars on my arms,
Are all just reminders,
Of the people that I've harmed,
So I open my eyes,
To the things that make me blind,
That's why I keep trying,
One day at a time.
Tuesday 15th January 2019 8:12 am
I may not be
your cup of tea
but I am your
bottle of rum --
so ease up that grip:
Stop strangling my neck.
Let My liquid conflagration
scorch your lying condescension
again and again and again.... without fail.
If you but remember to be true
to what lurks deep within you
I will assail your do...
Sunday 13th January 2013 6:57 pm