It was the pipe that was taking me down, was it not?
Stepping over the line, tripped and got caught
The invisible thread cut through skin, then to flesh
Deep to the bone, making old wounds seem fresh
To distort, to justify, to take me away
Sacrificing spirit, emotional decay
Shrinking smaller and smaller, and I can’t stop it
Shaking going unseen until cause to drop it
Lost in the shadow of all that is wrong
Days without reason to even go on
Distorted in haze of thought and false emotion
Not able to unravel tight wound contortion
Pain only goes deeper with attempts to change
Process and patterns in jumbled rearrange
Alone and isolated with fears caving in
Weighted down, hopeless, will pulled thin
Medicating, escaping the only way to cope
The choice that deepens desperation, the thief of my hope
Then appears another way
A sliver of light representing a different day
Allow for surrender, reach out to start again
Open to a path where the darkness will end.
I was going through my poetry journal, I wrote this in June 2013 and finished it today (January 13, 2014). Feeling gratitude for the hope and faith the program of Narcotics Anonymous has brought to my life.