November 19
Human Sacrifice
How much does it have to cost me in order for you to feel
better? Why is it that my suffering
improves your mood? Does it confirm for
you that you are not alone when you are feeling scared? Or does it give you the sense that at least
you’re not as pitiful as me? Is it
pleading that strikes a cord, is it the animal pain which stirs your
compassion? What about this scenario
completes the cycle for you to be able to move back to your comfort zone? And what happens if I don’t fall to
pieces? If I hold my emotions to my
chest, take them to my sponsor; in some way keep them from your hungry
eyes? Will you move on and leave me
behind? Will you climb over the hurdle
which currently stands between us? Or
will you store away this bitter thing like a rotten nut hidden by a Secret
Squirrel?
List your objections and examine them for holes
*
SPRUCE
The gum that grows in trees and trickles down bark,
Is harvested and chewed, spit out and sticks to shoes,
Is the very stuff that mimics my life.
I race with vitality, burst my confines
Am ruminated and masticated by various onlookers
And then adhere myself to anyone I feel will carry me
To a more advantageous venue.
I needn’t apologize for my fluid nature or viscosity
I am just as I should be, always where and what I am
And at the same time on my way to somewhere and something else.
The gum that grows in trees and trickles down bark,
Is harvested and chewed, spit out and sticks to shoes,
Is the very stuff that mimics my life.
I race with vitality, burst my confines
Am ruminated and masticated by various onlookers
And then adhere myself to anyone I feel will carry me
To a more advantageous venue.
I needn’t apologize for my fluid nature or viscosity
I am just as I should be, always where and what I am
And at the same time on my way to somewhere and something else.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to
Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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