Sobriety feels like a knife being stuck in the middle of my palms,
During nights where my soul isn’t calm.
How badly I want a drink,
Or a smoke,
I cannot describe while I dive into past poems I wrote,
As a reminder to never give up…
Giving up on myself is the last thing I desire!
But,
I can’t help but suspire,
The same way I used to when I’d breathe out what I thought I couldn’t retire…
So much work!
It has been.
Work I have no problem putting in,
To survive a world already engulfed in flames ignited by,
Our need for,
What we don’t need…
So,
Why fire myself,
Up,
Up and away from a Hell I know I could put out with my fingertips?
All it takes is,
The kind of faith you can only find when you call to Him from within…
m3l0dicverse 
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