A tale about someone’s struggle with drink

So hear you are                                                                                                                               Sitting in pain in your bedroom                                                                                                           All the walls and the ceiling                                                                                                            painted the same shade of white                                                                                                  Gives it the feel of a ward in a hospital                                                                                               Yet a few years ago                                                                                                                                 it would have been illogical                                                                                                             that you would end up here

With your skin blotchy, clammy and red                                                                                            Indeed you even once said                                                                                                               that it would not affect you much                                                                                                    Bar the odd hangover

You said it made you feel like a Casanova                                                                                 Made you live out your dreams                                                                                                             & that’s how it seemed                                                                                                                           a few years back

And initially they were some funny moments

Like that time you went to a club                                                                                                    Got drunk and saw a woman                                                                                                                you tried to pull                                                                                                                                  You leaned in for a kiss                                                                                                                       but out of your mouth came sick                                                                                                 which covered all her face                                                                                                                She looked at you in disgrace                                                                                                           and beat a haste                                                                                                                               through the exit door

Then there was that time                                                                                                                  you stumbled drunk out of a bar                                                                                                    You entered what you thought was a taxi                                                                                      but was actually a police car                                                                                                             And instead of going home                                                                                                                you spend a night on your own                                                                                                          in a police cell

By morning you felt so embarrassed                                                                                       Couldn’t believe you’d been so careless                                                                                               As for me                                                                                                                                                   I thought it was bloody hilarious!

Yet those good times                                                                                                                        became less and less                                                                                                                            So desperate for drink                                                                                                                       you consumed the dregs                                                                                                                         of empty bottles                                                                                                                                      on the city centre streets

Bloody cuts, missing teeth                                                                                                              from drunken fights                                                                                                                                were a regular occurrence

And the turbulence in your life                                                                                                     became increasing marked

Alcohol gnawed at your thoughts                                                                                             Caused memories to be distorted                                                                                                  Was your fuel for the day                                                                                                           Helped the pain go away

Some days                                                                                                                                                  you were in a daze                                                                                                                          Other days                                                                                                                                            you wake up                                                                                                                                      covered in your own piss

And like prehistoric flies                                                                                                                   stuck in amber                                                                                                                                         You behaved like this                                                                                                                          for what seemed like an eternity

Hence why you’re in your room                                                                                                       Going cold turkey

Yet suffering from seizures and the DT’s                                                                                   Won’t help you beat this disease                                                                                                       What you really need                                                                                                                              is rehab

As your problems not with drink                                                                                                    But the way that you think                                                                                                                 As every idea and thought                                                                                                                    is linked to the next hit

Once your treatment has passed                                                                                                   Bond between alcohol and mind                                                                                                   Should no longer last                                                                                                                           And you can focus on the future

But life won’t be as nice as it was before                                                                                      Just more comfortable

As your thirst for the drink                                                                                                              Will always reside                                                                                                                             Like Jekyll’s Mr Hyde                                                                                                                          inside you

And bars, pubs and the off licence                                                                                                 Will always be there to tempt you

But friends, family and other loved ones                                                                                      Will always be there to support you                                                                                            Don’t think it’s a start or an end                                                                                                      But rather a journey continued

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One Response to COLD TURKEY

  1. My father died drunk in a motorcycle accident when I was 3. I know the stigma, the pointed fingers, devastation caused by alcoholics. It is in some of my poems and my books.

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