wake up

Walking up to the door,

Heart pounding, mind spinning

Fidget with the zipper of my coat, I look up to the sky

Close my eyes tight, hoping with every fibre of my being

That somehow, somewhere, a God is listening to me,

“Please, please let everything be okay”

I plead, desperately as my sweaty hand presses down on the rusty handle


The dead silence that scream at me

Tells me everything I need to know

Things are not okay

I guess God was too busy today

I walk slowly to the living room,

Dejected and apathetic shell of being

and I find you there,

Mouth open, eyes closed, snoring heavily

I would put a blanket over you, but I just don’t want to

You did this again,

You let this happen again.


I delicately open your bag,

Your personal vessel of self-destruction, there in plain sight

The delicious poison you crave so much

The poison you’d rather drink yourself to sleep with

to blot out the pain of all the problems you cannot face

than to stay sober long enough to say hello to your daughter

that you haven’t seen in a month


I suppress the urge to wake you up

What use is it to wake someone up

If they are perpetually asleep?

Every trace of the woman you were is gone,

She is drowning from in the toxic syrup that coarses through you veins


You don’t care

The only thing you care about is the burn

The burn of cheap supermarket vodka

As it scorches your sore throat

The burn that comforts you with the promise of numbness

The promise of a dulled down, sedated non-life that you chase

The feeling of being so drunk, that no amount of vomiting can bring you back down to Earth


You refuse to live down here with us,

So I refuse to stick around for the aftermath





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