Numb

I pour the drink, the amber tide,

A secret kept, a truth I hide.

Behind closed doors, I drown the ache,

Longing for a high I can’t recreate.

I miss the haze, the drifting calm,

The weed that soothed like a healing balm.

Its warmth once wrapped my restless mind,

A peace I crave, but cannot find.

Now the glass is my escape,

A fleeting cure for my fragile state.

I sip, I swallow, I feel it start,

The numbness creeping through my heart.

But where does this lead? I can’t foresee,

The cost of this tether tightening on me.

Each drink a step down a path unknown,

A labyrinth I wander, utterly alone.

I yearn for freedom, yet still I stay,

Bound by habits I can’t betray.

And in the quiet, I wonder when

I’ll find myself whole again.

~RMC