Saturday, October 22, 2016

Honest to a fault

My honesty compels me to tell
The rest of the story
The dirty laundry
That only the child of a hopeless
Alcoholic anonymously can know
How I felt ashamed
To my very core
Guilt like a pair of concrete boots
Dragging me down 
To the bottom
Rock bottom
I met you there 
And I wept
While you slept
On the floor
Cigarette still in hand
Like a little flare
A cry for help
In that big empty old house
Now nothing more than a memory
That haunts me still 
No matter how far I run