The tragic addict

alcohol addiction

The tragic addict thinks nothing of it,
they have always been this way,
one drink, two drinks, three drinks are normal,
setting sail on on a 12 hour tour
to self medication island.

Once arriving on the beach the mainland is in view,
Have another drink matey for this land
proclaiming with bottle in hand,
No one for miles around, or so it seems
except loved ones far away on the mainland.

At first loved ones visit reluctantly,
They do not stay long for they can’t find the drunk
On the other side of the island he wandered
Passed out, an unkept mess,
Alienating his company as they left.

Visitors grow fewer and fewer,
days and weeks go by as the mainland seems farther
barely visible now, fades out of view,
at least the bottle will always be there, gleaming in the sun,
sweet nectar helps to forget the past and bring back the fun.

Suddenly there is no mainland any more,
No one but the bottle and sand grace these shores
with no one to clean up for, all cares melt away,
in a strawberry fermented liquid haze,
But WAIT, there’s only one more drop!

Oh god, the loyal friend has dried up!
anger and frustration fill the cup,
screaming in isolation, sound disappears…
no one but the fish and seagulls to hear….
smoke signals cry out for help.

Help never comes,
hunger grabs hold,
steals the sun, nights unshakably cold,
all that is left is to sleep,
all hope dies.

Morning, one eyelid cracks open,
a fuzzy red boat in the distance,
with a tall mast and a flag,
coming closer it is real
RESCUED from this hellish paradise.

Oh thank you oh savior!
Nursing the drunk back to health,
Pledging not to drink anymore,
Not coming back to these island shores,
Good riddance bottle.

Good riddance old life.
Hello new life!

Back on the mainland everyone is loving,
friends and family rejoice,
so happy the bottle is gone,
now living can continue,
but for how long….

Until self medication island calls again..

and when it does the story repeats,

each time more agonizing than the last,

each time fewer loved ones come to save,

this tragic addict bottle slave.

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2 thoughts on “The tragic addict

  1. You see the struggle, you feel it, too. “Nicely summarized”, from one who knows what it’s like on the mainland, and holding that red flag!
    Cheryl

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