Fractured

Fractured

A Poem by Cherrie Palmer
"

addiction

"

I remember thinking, this is not my son,

but who?

This broken shell,

no longer able to give me eye contact.

Guilt I note,

but that is another story I yet know of. 

Instability simmers, a slow wake trimmers, his emotions.

A hinged jaw straps down the pending explosion,

but for how long.

He hides in his room to eat,

or waits till everyone is asleep to gorge himself clandestinely.

To many nights on the streets.

Too many hits of the pipe,

and now body and mind are broken,

soul and spirit stripped and splintered.

Thirty-five, is to old, to run away,

to old not to know the better path when a choice is given,

 but it is just old enough to rush into the gates of Hell,

with only remorse as a companion.


© 2021 Cherrie Palmer


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Featured Review

WOW! One of the most powerful things I've read about addiction. I was immediately drawn in by your brilliant opening . . . you captured that one mind-blowing thing most of us have seen, where a person is so "not himself" that it's stunning to look, search, try to find some shred of the original person. Your tone of disbelief continues & gives incredible intensity to your words (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Cherrie Palmer

3 Years Ago

It is such a raw thing, hard to gloss-over such circumstances without a hard edge. It is a merry-go-.. read more
Cherrie Palmer

3 Years Ago

I couldn't decide on a picture for this till just now.
barleygirl

3 Years Ago

Great pic, with the light & dark contrasts & the blur . . . says so much!



Reviews

Ouch...It's crazy how one life can get so off kilter while others manage to skirt by. Being caught in that trap is so sad for the child and the parent, and like Jacob said, I think there is a point where someone does see the trap, and we can only hope that it isn't too late.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 3 Years Ago


Cherrie Palmer

3 Years Ago

He's fought for a long time. With each loss it gets harder. We can only hope, and remind him he .. read more
Yes, Thirty-five is definitely too old to run away....but often we find ourselves so late in life...
Remorse likes to hitch a ride with us...but sooner or later there will be a rest stop, and may be we could drop it off there.
I had many years of rocking out of tune....took me until later in life to get on key.
He will come around.
sometimes we have to hit bottom before we start rising back to the surface.
j.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 3 Years Ago


Cherrie Palmer

3 Years Ago

that's great to hear :)
dearest Cherrie... my own Son touched on this scenario and he did overcome... but now and then I see and feel a bit of melancholy... when Ill winds come along and render reckless decisions. tenderly, Pat

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 3 Years Ago


Cherrie Palmer

3 Years Ago

We keep hoping, but each time there seems to be a bigger piece missing. We are now raising his son,.. read more
Cherrie Palmer

3 Years Ago

so, time and prayer is my weapon of choice.

2
next Next Page
last Last Page
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

177 Views
13 Reviews
Rating
Added on January 25, 2021
Last Updated on February 2, 2021

Author

Cherrie Palmer
Cherrie Palmer

Springfield , MO



About
I am a published poet and love poetry. After a lifetime of country living, I'm making a move back to town. I find my surroundings a great inspiration to me. I also have two books on Amazon Kindle: .. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


First love. First love.

A Poem by Beccy