August 23, 2011
BOX ROOM
Awakening
Counting ceiling tiles, blurred
She loses track
Wondering
Was that a scream she heard
falling through a crack
Speaking
Her words not quite right, slurred
The drugs’ve made her whack
Feeling
Straps on her wrists, tethered
Detox. The Rack.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For anyone who has made it through detox. My mother did it cold turkey to avoid the above experience, and she had a lot of help from my father. Issues with Dad aside, this was the best thing he ever did for my mother – help her get through kicking alcohol at the age of 60. She spent her last 10 years in recovery and died sober. Amen. Amy
For dverse – a fascinating group = and at Poets United, forever my home.
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