Feeling air in my bones like I am Swiss cheese…
She crashes on me like a tsunami
Destroying everything I had built
As a bulwark to her leaving
Waltzing back in as if by divine rite
To claim things not hers, actions and words
Not said and done, no shining light
Nor defusing by interregnum
She climbs my pulpits as conqueror
Though all thought she had been banished
Still she thrives underground
Her face muddied yet true
A shoal of sea-fed followers
Flocking to her school
Where holding ones breath is important
Not doubting the veracity of this virtue
But of people and their need to be
She has yet to come through
Showing to me that she cares for us
Not as patients but people
The confusion is simple and pure
Doctors agree that alcoholism is
Both the answer to the question and the cure.
© shaun patrick green 2011
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