Sober

Golden pools ooze, like that of yellow gashes,
whilst memories linger still, amongst the sifted ashes.
And in forgetful desperation, the oozing over-flows,
Remembrances I begged of God not to ever know.

 The empty bottles lay, there upon the floor,
Throwing blurring images, behind each hidden door.
The haunts of all the weaknesses, that constantly defeat me,
Force me to slam them closed, and throw away each key.

 I once upon a time was whole, but that was merely then,
nowadays I shrink to become, what’s left of what I’d been.
Falling to my knees, cause standing’s not enough,
just another soul, who drinks to drain each cup.

 The golden liquid calls, tempting me and still,
I give right in, facing that fact, that I have lost my will.
To only down the pain, that I cannot seem to leave,
knowing it gets harder – much harder to believe.

 They say it’s just a few more days, until I reach sobriety,
And it’s the whiskey that I see, cannot truly set me free.
Now I understand, that it is never over,
and life is far too UNREAL, when lived never sober.

copyright 2012 Aiden Delaney