words from a 17 year old

karmic torrent
it is the hour of the early morning
that almost eighteen years ago i was born into
and i am thinking of you
while letting my mind swim deeper than ever before
and i know that you are a part of the why in this
yet the river i am diving in is raging and flooded with confusion
and i am pulled by two karmic currents
for the water course that made this torrent
has a long and twisted path
if it was easy to speak as i must i would feel that there is nothing that i have to say
so i must tell you simply that i love you
there is little else i know with certainty
just adumbral after images of my soul’s sixth sense
i shouted poems at a streambed with it’s polluted September trickle
and in later reading am aware that i saw
something i do not comprehend
an intuition of reality which makes no sense to my sanity
i have no word for what i feel when you are close to me
but i had dreams of you holding me, dreams of ecstasy

Aye, the drama of a stoned seventeen year old.  She was pretty smart, I should give her some credit.  She’d already lived on her own for nine months, signed her own lease, had her own checking account and completed a full year of college courses.  But she still went swimming in floods.  She was in love with two addicts.  My first glance back at this piece I think she chose the wrong current.  On further thought either one would have drowned her and left her for dead at the time.  She did smart things like give herself alcohol poisoning to punish herself for her boyfriend going out with another woman for the night.  She was most of all desperate to prove that no one could hurt her as bad as she could hurt herself.  And she was good at it.  She was much afraid of intimacy while still very much in need of just one person who really knew her and still wanted her.  In a rare moment of bravery she did share this poem.  Good girl, just once being open and honest.  Unfortunately she was one addict in love with another addict.  And ‘to love an addict is to run out of tears.’


About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. My most recent completed endeavor was finishing BA's in Religious Studies and American Studies. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
This entry was posted in addiction, boyfriend, creative writing, fear, love, poem, poetry, recovery and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to words from a 17 year old

  1. Pingback: I Misspeak | stories of survival

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