Bottle the Acid

June 11

BOTTLE THE ACID

My sponsor said to bottle the acid and so I did.  I sat back in smug reflection until the plumbing backed up.  I grabbed the fast solution and poured it down the drain.  My sponsor smiled as I learned the baser things will eat my life away, too.  I can never just decant power and expect it to sweep clean the clogged pathways in my recovery.  Sloshing caustic medicine into open orifices brought me here.  I long for the ease of a liquid resolution.  In the end, I must clean the pipes myself.  The traps are simpler to cleanse the less I’ve lied.  Telling myself I don’t have to get my hands or heart dirty is the biggest lie of all.

Eat lunch with relish.

*

Sanitized

All the water in the well, gone dry, belongs to me.

Such an offer, how could I refuse?

I stand as near the edge as I can get

and try my best to peer, is the goldfish alive?

For you see this is still my best hope,

you, the source are also my wishing well,

more than just survival you are prospect, neigh dream.

You say that what’s left is mine,

but you think of it as incidental, not a need, merely a want.

Someplace deep, beyond where you admit,

you know that life is dependent on desire,

but will play mine off as casual

when it becomes inconvenient to your drives and blindness.

Eunuchs do not immediately perish,

but you must confess they do not live.

I stand here a lock to which there is no longer a key

and whether I am open or closed it doesn’t matter

for the partnership of change is desecrated

and I do not care for a waterless solution.

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Sanitized

June 13

Sanitized

All the water in the well gone dry belongs to me.  Such an offer, how could I refuse?  I stand as near the edge as I can get and try my best to peer, is the goldfish alive?  For you see this is still my best hope, you, the source are also my wishing well, more than just survival you are prospect, neigh dream.  You say that what’s left is mine, but you think of it as incidental, not a need, merely a want.  Someplace deep, beyond where you admit, you know that life is dependant on desire, but will play mine off as casual when it becomes inconvenient to your drives and blindness.  Eunuchs do not immediately perish, but you must confess they do not live.  I stand here a lock to which there is no longer a key and whether I am open or closed it doesn’t matter for the partnership of change is desiccated and I do not care for a waterless solution. 

Check yourself for false steps

*

INVENTORY

When you say “self” who do you mean

Asked my sponsor

Do you mean the lovely velvet child,

Or the façade you built to show others?

Well I wish I could answer you, I do, my reply.

I see the shrine you construct in your sobriety

I love that you made it.

When you talk about ridding yourself of self--

I doubt you mean this edifice.

Do you speak of some creature in the past

Do you know of whom you speak

Are you parroting, then assuming this thing exists

Solely for you to now dispose of it?

I thought “self”  was self-evident- I feebly interject.

I want names and locations

If you only suspect some of these entities

Please provide me with a full accounting of your suspicions

I also want, to the best of your ability, the origin of these individuals

I am unwilling to cosign their disposal without a proper bookkeeping

I see by the bright look on your face,

I have made myself clear, she said with conviction.

So this is what you meant by self-inventory, I say and sigh.

Bottle the Acid

June 11

BOTTLE THE ACID

My sponsor said to bottle the acid and so I did.  I sat back in smug reflection until the plumbing backed up.  I grabbed the fast solution and poured it down the drain.  My sponsor smiled as I learned the baser things will eat my life away, too.  I can never just decant power and expect it to sweep clean the clogged pathways in my recovery.  Sloshing caustic medicine into open orifices brought me here.  I long for the ease of a liquid resolution.  In the end, I must clean the pipes myself.  The traps are simpler to cleanse the less I’ve lied.  Telling myself I don’t have to get my hands or heart dirty is the biggest lie of all.

Eat lunch with relish.

*

Sanitized

All the water in the well, gone dry, belongs to me.

Such an offer, how could I refuse?

I stand as near the edge as I can get

and try my best to peer, is the goldfish alive?

For you see this is still my best hope,

you, the source are also my wishing well,

more than just survival you are prospect, neigh dream.

You say that what’s left is mine,

but you think of it as incidental, not a need, merely a want.

Someplace deep, beyond where you admit,

you know that life is dependent on desire,

but will play mine off as casual

when it becomes inconvenient to your drives and blindness.

Eunuchs do not immediately perish,

but you must confess they do not live.

I stand here a lock to which there is no longer a key

and whether I am open or closed it doesn’t matter

for the partnership of change is desiccated

and I do not care for a waterless solution.