I originally wrote the two poems below, after receiving an e-mail about two months ago. The message was
clear, even after being out of this person's life for over 14 years - I am still the main reason for their life.
The last week of August, I went on a road trip to different AA groups that helped me during my early sobriety.
It was from one meeting that I learned of the difficulties one person from my past is living with.
These difficulties are all a product of this person's refusal to change and quit being a victim. If you receive my
newsletter you know more about this story. If not, all I can say is if someone in a family quits drinking, they are
not the only person who needs help.
In my early recovery, I dreamed of the day this person would change; admit defeat and get help. But so many
people told me it was never going to happen. Sadly, I'll have to admit, that this person will never change. No
one will ever know who this human being was really meant to be. Someday I have a feeling I will read about
this person in the newspaper being beat to death, or shot to death by a drug induced friend.
That e-mail now has a new meaning. These people from my past, refused help at the time and are still living in
the past. And part of that past is me. They still live it, while I've moved on. I find no joy in the way their lives
have turned out, just sadness.
clear, even after being out of this person's life for over 14 years - I am still the main reason for their life.
The last week of August, I went on a road trip to different AA groups that helped me during my early sobriety.
It was from one meeting that I learned of the difficulties one person from my past is living with.
These difficulties are all a product of this person's refusal to change and quit being a victim. If you receive my
newsletter you know more about this story. If not, all I can say is if someone in a family quits drinking, they are
not the only person who needs help.
In my early recovery, I dreamed of the day this person would change; admit defeat and get help. But so many
people told me it was never going to happen. Sadly, I'll have to admit, that this person will never change. No
one will ever know who this human being was really meant to be. Someday I have a feeling I will read about
this person in the newspaper being beat to death, or shot to death by a drug induced friend.
That e-mail now has a new meaning. These people from my past, refused help at the time and are still living in
the past. And part of that past is me. They still live it, while I've moved on. I find no joy in the way their lives
have turned out, just sadness.
| To many enemies time goes to fast… yet… now it moves to slow no happy medium and the time runs out just waiting… waiting… for a ray of hope a light in the tunnel that is still pitch black hard to keep faith hard to move forward when surrounded by doubt and fear more then just paranoia walls continue to cave in finding strength… gets harder securing answers with still more questions is failure part of destiny or the creation of a new hell built on false pride and denial a journey of pain can not accept the easy way martyrdom a strong badge difficult to cut free but… why |
| It’s Time the anger still rages the hate still alive the pain still real though ions have past the fire still burns unable to accept happiness keeping the victim alive instead of moving on keeping stories alive that died years ago forever living in the dark no glimmer of light obsessed with a past that can’t be forgotten but… maybe… forgiven time to let go time to move on time to heal time for peace time for forgiveness |
| Memories of a past… filled with shame |
| Not much to say here... our past can destroy our lives if we continue to give it power. Good saying from AA holds true - Let Go and Let God |
Creating dreams...
by recognizing co-dependency
| OBSESSION followed blindly never questioning the reason for what others believed slowly dying in a world that wasn't mine ashamed of the quiet that surrounded me while bombs exploded both around... and inside me no idea of any truth eyes saw the destruction but no one understood why the soul died and sadly... no one cared when I jumped off that cliff an illusion into a world where God had no place anger and rage was the power that supplied the strength to play the games... lies and manipulation alcohol and drugs just part of the formula control of others brought self-worth an accomplishment of conquest but along the way needed more booze... more control... it was the end of sanity no longer controlling just... being controlled |
| UNKNOWN cuddled in the comfort of a bed covered with warm blankets in the peace of silence dreams come before sleep feeling a Presence sleeping alone but not lonely sleep brings a world to life unimaginable when awake a nirvana shared only by oneself yet... yearning to bring it to life I wonder is this dream really... His reality surrounded by love sharing in the lives of family though on different paths coming together... from memories of a past begging to come back to life not alone... but at times... lonely for a part of the past which wasn't all that bad before the wars... before addiction I shed a tear tonight for a dream... I doubt will ever become reality to spend a day... or two... with the family of my birth no schedules... no timelines burying the past... and just... just... getting to know each other maybe for the first time in the comfort of my bed I still dream |
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| Trash With Class she matured with class but what shed did in private was pure trash she held her head high her joy… making boys and men yell and scream… and finally sigh Pleasuring others was the goal performing these acts she’d sell her soul photos and film would not lie she loved the attention but her marriage died children couldn’t believe what they’d see that was their mom on Internet TV lost respect for themselves and others questioning what happened to their mother dad couldn’t handle any more finally he’d leave all he felt was numb and deceived for awhile mom sat high on her throne but eventually… she’d end up alone the attention she needed would quickly fade lying in the bed she had made At first her body passed the test wore out… just to many men now she was just a mess no one could remember how she used to be a slut… a whore… is all they’d see her worse fears would come true loneliness… it grew and grew she sunk to new levels of obscenity on her knees… “please be with me” like a slave she was sold and passed around she became the tramp of the town no husband… no daughters or sons she prayed for forgiveness as she shot the gun |
| So ill… So sick so ill... so sick spit in the mirror at an image that won't go away fell into a trap thought it was love just... dysfunctional needs a need to feel power to be in control to be a hero... your hero a show of strength providing protection from this evil world a need for your acceptance a wonderful high... your approval over time... this need needed more more approval... more love more acceptance yet... got less fantasies were lies love was manipulation to fulfill needs dysfunctional needs so ill... so sick |
