Three months sober and counting.
I have dreams of you. Where you
haunt me in the most delicious ways possible, I wake up parched, sweaty and
needy. For every single one of these dreams I experience withdrawal symptoms,
my day wasted from the activities of sleep that put me in a philosophical haze.
A haze that has me questioning the necessity of a lifetime without the proper
maximization of the bond I share with you. These dreams scare me but not in a
nightmarish way, I am awakened by the realization that my existence will be
riddled with attempts at curbing the excesses you come with.
Three months sober and counting.
I see you everywhere; in stores
and on TV. Omnipresent. Flirting and teasing me, I hear your fizzy laughter
when you are in the hands of others; you soothe them in ways they have no
comprehension of and all I desire is to hold you. Feel your coolness as I take
you in.
Three months sober and counting.
My darling bottles of 35 and 50
cl- I do not care in what size or flavor you come, I need to see you. No, taste
you; I already see you everywhere. I cannot start to think of all the ways I am
dying without you and at the same time not dying, my waistline complained and
my doctor says you will be the death of me but I am willing and ready to risk
it all.
Am I really?
Three months sober and counting.
Nkem Oyaghire
No comments:
Post a Comment