WHEN THE SEQUINS FALL

I’ve been thinking a bunch about the last decade of my life. Much of it was captured right here on this blog. I’ve been absent lately. Life just had a way of demanding my attention. Holding me accountable. Changing me. Healing me. And as I look at the things I’ve written… I barely recognize this person
who resided here.

I guess… I am proud. I mean life isn’t easier because a lot of things are harder but LOTS of things are better. Things are different. I am different.

For one I am SOBER.

If I were to pick the ONE thing that has made the BIGGEST difference it is that. I AM SOBER.

This is a repost of an old poem I wrote. I can see now how drinking created something I label as a recycling of emotions. That ghost in the window… he was getting tired of seeing me in the same place… making the same mistakes…

befunky_img_20140620_143611-1

A few shots of ammunition
And the heat detonates inside
His voice begins to drown
As I answer, “I don’t care”
A few rotten nasty sentiments
Scour the ditches of my despair
Determined to find the notion
That will make the hurt I feel
Much too agonizing to persevere

There’s a ghost in the window,
Watching every move I make,
Sometimes,
He points at me with a knowing
As if part of me is showing

Spirits wash away my pain
Blood alcohol searching point 5
I wave goodbye to logic
And shed my clever disguise
Louboutin’s fly off my feet
Valentino sequin’s hit the floor
Watch me as I take off this mask
And expose myself as the classless girl
My peers have pegged me for

There’s a ghost in the window,
Watching every move I make,
Sometimes,
He points at me with a knowing
As if part of me is showing

Rose petal’s long faded and lifeless
Litter a worn out intoxicated bed
Romancing my fleeting conscience
With a place to lay my head
Sheets long wrinkled, do nothing
To cover the spiritually dead
Nothing to hide the empty shame
An emotional mess I begin to drift
My body, my life so numb and stiff

 

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5 thoughts on “WHEN THE SEQUINS FALL

  1. Hasty, I’ve only known you here in The World Between The Wires (Thanks, Lizzi, I love that phrase.) since you’ve been sober. In that time I have seen you grow and change in healing, and this poem shows me a different scale to measure that. I’m proud of you and proud to know you.

    Like

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