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The Spirit

Author: Adrian P.

He is
Here.

With me
In my place of
Peace?

He is
Here
With me
Through the most
‘devil’
Of
Nights.

He is here
In comfort
With me
In addiction.

And
Utter
Depression.

He is here with
Me.
My family
And one lover
My ‘real’
Friends.

That
Person is
Here
Now.

The Spirit Author: Adrian P. He is Here. With me In my

Author: Sam M.

We meet again my vicious friends…
It’s been a while thought I was changing my style
Still I needed you that is no denial
Life constantly flows like the Nile
Everyone knows if I’m ill it’s you who I dial
Can never be true as I bundle my shit up in a pile
Out the door I try to go
You’re pissed I’m face down on the floor I know
I laugh then crack a joke
Pick myself up see change fuck I’m broke
I don’t fit in I hang with different folk
Hitting rails I pluck my guitar with a deadly stroke On edge so I shoot before I smoke
With death I’m flirting puking between burping Head in the toilet I’m hurting
Craving a buzz so I’m slurring
Later driving to cop lost in thought severely swerving
If I’m being honest the chaos looked good in the pot I’m stirring
My mistake I don’t abide I try an hide it with a tarp Is this real or fake on either side when failure cuts it’s sharp
If offered I take
Inhale the life in my heart that’s beginning to break Quickly kicking in “numbing” the pain as I shake
The come down vibe is gasping treading water in a bottomless lake
Puzzled thoughts as I keep up the doggy paddle for my daughters sake
I’ve no preserver I see a demon I yell “No I will not dessert her”
Proceed to decline last year was a blur
Fuck this chaos I ain’t having her lick the spoon right after I stir
I snap back…
I realize I’m losing to this demon
Farther I fall soon to be sleeping
After I’ll interact with objects to show y’all I’m speaking
Pitch black I fall deeper and deeper
Feels like I’m on a track blowing the lead to a sleeper or second half Atlanta losing big with no fans on a singular bleacher…I black out…
Hypothetically speaking to my Mother screaming are you proud of your oldest
“Son you have a warm heart but strut around the coldest five foot ten but forever pulling sticks that keep you the shortest”
Mom’s a heavily educated nurse see at the time medically she fought and prayed the younger me received help to a certain degree…
I can see the light
Been doing wrong so long this feels right
Then my eyes dart open…
I picture staring at my soul
The body’s way of trickery when there’s a taste of charcoal
Ranting and raving “I’m no longer a healthy host” Visions run wild of me taking the form of a ghost
I feel my heart barely skipping
The devil gained a resident I hear snickering
The demon says “sit down and reflect on the precious time you’ll be missing”
His evil face inching closer I’m scared shitless
Then out from the abyss with an angel as my witness I engaged fight or flight in an instant
A stern voice is now speaking “Your last chance too much time you’ve been stealing constant agony the opposite of relieving Sam hurt is necessary when you’re healing”
My head shoots through that blue ceiling
Chest filling with air it’s so appealing
Now whispers of an early death refrain from speaking
I reach land glance back at the deadly pair fading Courageously I 180 a pencil to practice erasing…Life is a rough draft continuously proofread floating on a poorly designed raft…
For me that’s heard at a different volume..
I keep myself on the forefront
When I unwelcome the generous offer of a shortcut
Irrelevant when I hear them judge
Carnage behind me it’s okay to hold that grudge
Numb to insults I will never budge
Knowing what spews out they mouth leaves a trail of sludge…
This is forever everyday I’m getting better I step outside regardless of terrible weather look up and thank God that we doing this together

When life gives you lemons make orange juice and leave them wondering…lastly I ask…a moment of silence for the still sick and suffering

Author: Sam M. We meet again my vicious

Author: Jessica S.

Dear addiction,
There is something about our veins that has attracted your attention.
Our names are on your lips again
As if we are something worth your mention.
You knew that we had left you,
You were never our missing jewel.
Still here you came uninvited again,
Back into our lives you fool.
I don’t blame you for your desperation to share life behind our wrists,
Because we are vessels of beauty
And you are just sweaty fists.
It’s true, you knew.
Children of God you were loitering through.
We will admit we unlocked our jewelry box for you, but, this is the day
The lord has illustrated.
And these are his children you have robbed and degraded.
We are blessed to have met you,
Though you will regret we had to meet.
You will be dealing with our father now,
And you can find us at his feet.

Author: Jessica S. Dear addiction, There is something about

Author: Alicia R.

I let out a sigh but not one meant for frustration,
More like the one when your landing home from vacation.
Looking back two years prior
When my only concern was to get higher.

That darkness creeps over me like fallen smoke,
Stealing my breath and I choke.
From memory of the sickness that once consumed me
Maintaining how grateful and fortunate that I am now free.

With demons gone, those that I abhor
Pure bliss, laughter and love radiates through my core
I can give my children the life they deserve
These new memories I can now preserve.
If and when those temptations arise
Fleetingly come and go but will not be my demise!

Let my strength and faith shine hope for others still in a dark abyss
There is a way out and you can overcome this!
With enthusiasm to live and a hand reaching out
There is no blackness that you can not surmount!

Author: Alicia R. I let out a sigh

Author: Torious W.

Aspirations of a better life, one without drugs and alcohol, one without strife. Spirits high, heart in the right place, mind grounded in a good head space. Emotions in check unlike before, if it continues to be this way don’t know what’s in store. I know I have a bright future ahead, if I hadn’t changed some things in my life, I could have been dead. Positive energy flowing through my veins, reading my writings I can see that I’ve changed. More work to do I’m only beginning, woke up this morning sober, so I’m already winning. It feels good now to have a sense of direction, I have a program to work and GOD for protection. Aspirations are good, but faith without works is dead, I can face the rest of life now it’s full speed ahead!!

Author: Torious W. Aspirations of a better life,

Author: Chris J.

Us drunks and addicts-can at times be naive-this disease of addiction-lets us look but not see-the reality we live in-each and everyday-this disease loves fantasy-and it likes to play-with our minds and emotions-our hearts and our souls-it just patiently waits-it has no other goals-but to breed chaos in our lives-every chance that it gets-to fill us with more pain-heartaches and regrets-and just when you think-that you got this thing beat-it throws you a curve ball-and sweeps you right off your feet-and starts your mind to racing-and your emotions to churn-your heart to breaking and your soul to burn-then you think of that drug-or maybe that drink-if I only have one-I won’t have to think-about anything or anyone-today or tomorrow-I can just sit and wallow-in self–pity and sorrow-why doesn’t anyone understand-I’m perfect can’t they see-everything would be alright-If everyone was more like me-there isn’t a thing-that I can’t do-I’m perfect in everything-bummer to be you-and the longer I stay-in this unhealthy state-I get further and further-away from my fate-of getting closer to my God-as I possibly can-and start reaching out-to my fellow man-and get out of me-and my sick mind-so serenity and peace-I might find!

Author: Chris J. Us drunks and addicts-can at

Author: Chris J.

It’s so easy to slip back-to the way I used to think-when I was consumed with self-and the drugs and the drink-denying that voice-that you hear in your gut-then with eyes wide open-slip back into that rut-of complacency and procrastination-self–loathing and depression-the poor me syndrome-the denial and oppression-this disease of addiction-never takes a rest-if you don’t stay on top of it-it will show you who’s best-but I know what I’m doing-you keep telling yourself-as you slip away from your God-and put it up on a shelf-and there it waits patiently-watching you spin out of control-until you fall to your knees-your will again has taken its toll-and then if you’re lucky-and didn’t end up dead-you’ll start listening for that voice-and get out of your head-and pull your God off that shelf-and let it back in your gut-to love and guide you-and lift you out of that rut-so you can live your truth-and be productive again-for self and mankind-with your God till the end- and count your blessings-no matter how few-for there are others worse off-but for the grace of your God-it could be you!

Author: Chris J. It's so easy to slip

Author: Chris J.

Addiction is a disease-of pain without grace-loneliness abound-searching for a face-which way to turn-how will I travel-all directions seem wrong-this panic to unravel-hope is but an ember-threatened to be smothered-longing for a touch-wanting to be mothered-oh woe is me-as I stand here stripped-emotionally crippled-spiritually unequipped-please please please God-if there is such a thing-send forth a angel-to embrace me in it’s wing-and bring me home-where I need to be-into your loving warmth-perpetually free!

Author: Chris J. Addiction is a disease-of pain

A shot of life sent upright.
Long sleeve cover-ups for a pair of gold mines.
Less is more won’t work tonight.

“It’s not for me.”

On a good day, you can make a bargain.
Insecurity traded for your arm, then.

blood fire

If it’s your third first try, you’re about to know.
There and back, the unknown’s known to blow.

departure

Powder and hues split and proliferate.
Sloppy grit and milk on no dinner plate.

oil spill

When you forget yesterday’s shadows, you see a new light.
A rush like “eureka!” comes out the urethra.
Railroad rage, I turn to more loco motives.
All stress is gone; it’s a brand-new dawn.
Curt, it’s curt when love occurs.
Foam that shone and stained a nurse.

stop rising

It does the job, you do it great.
Hallucinate a human taste,
fallen angels, and a munchkin.
Sudden, much too mushed in.

direct burial

Turn the dull remarkable, a move I must pull.
Well, it’s the wet smell of a well in my head.
I’ll take the edge off the train tracks and rail on, instead.

Tomorrow.

A shot of life sent upright. Long sleeve