...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jS2EfI4pUac

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I was twenty years old

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When I began to understand,

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Began to discover, and to uncover,

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What lay at the bottom of the bottle.

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Years went by -

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Short, long,

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Young-man years -

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And I became too well acquainted

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With the crack 

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Of the soft, aluminum lid -

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The water soluble,

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Sugar-fermented whisper: 

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"oblivion."

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Like the coo of a patient love,

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Like the sigh of a summer-night,

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An embrace,

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A welcome,

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"oblivion."

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It was my drug,

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My immolation.

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But as I soon learned,

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What truly lay at the bottom -

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After rage and reckless grief,

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After joy and celebration,

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After abandon, and chaos,

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Nausea, sickness and poison -

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All that lay at the bottom

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Was yet more glass...

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And the desperate foray for another.

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Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

all forms of addiction have a bottom...and when we bottom out....we look for a new cap to unwind, so that we can imbibe, smoke, needle just one more, always thinking "this will be my last, i will rise from these ashes"
but life keeps throwing darts at us...and the bulls eyes bring us back to the addiction.
that desperate foray as you put it.
the journey here is true for so many...and the poem never ends...neither does the thirst...
j.

[Ookpik]

What you've described is the textbook analysis of what a person 'sees' when they look at addicts, what they can make sense of and understand - vs. the inner entrapment of actually being emotionally dependent on a substance, of what it 'feels' vs. what is 'visible'.

I don't think you're wrong, at least for the most part, but when I burned myself down I never once did so envisioning a phoenix the next day - it was never darts thrown by life that gave me cause to do it, it was a damage within myself (an open wound if you will) and the addiction was as much to perpetuating that damage as it was the sensations from the drug.

Lastly, it was only when I began to reconcile the reason for 'the thirst' - the origination of the wound - was I able to put the damage to bed and allow that thirst to ebb. The poem does end, but not for all of us - the bottom of the bottle can either be another, or the means of self realization to move on from what originally formed the habit in the first place.

That being said, I feel now as if the poem is still half finished, and I appreciate you taking the time to read.

-Ook

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i guess everyone's addiction is slightly different in its own regard..my second ex is a recovering alcoholic and recovering addict...lots of work to gain back self-esteem...for sure.
j.

[Ookpik]

I can appreciate that, and if its any consolation, I'd say I understand how painful it might be to witness someone you love go through this. It affects everyone involved, but at its core, it is an individual struggle - more often than not centered on their own iterations of trauma, and damage. I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir here, but the onus to repair that belongs to the people who are themselves, broken - the responsibility doesn't fall on the people who wish they could on their behalf.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I absolutely agree that is true.