Alcohol Free

ALCOHOL FREE.

ALCOHOL FREE, IS THIS REALLY FOR ME

CAN I STICK IT OUT. TRULY I HAVE MY DOUBTS.

ITS EARLY DAYS, BUT I’M COUNTING, WATCHING THE MINUTES AND HOURS, SLOWLY TICK BY

IT’LL GET BETTER THEY SAY, BUT I ACHE AND DREAM ABOUT A DRINK, MOST DAYS

IT’S A STRUGGLE I MUST ADMIT, AS I SIT AND CONTEMPLATE MY LIFE

IT’S BEEN A LONG SEVEN DAYS, SECOND ATTEMPT, FAILED LAST TIME AT DAY ELEVEN

WHEN AM I GOING TO GET THE YOUNG LOOKING SKIN AND CLEAR EYES

OR IS THAT A FALSE PROMISE, AND JUST YOUR LIES

THESE WEEKLY PHOTOS I’M TAKING BETTER SHOW MUCH PROGRESS IN MY AGE REVERSAL

OR PRETTY SOON, IMPATIENCE AND FRUSTRATION SHALL WIN OUT

THEN THEIR WILL BE NO MORE SITTING ON THE FENCE, ALCOHOL FREE, NOT FOR ME 

AT LEAST THAT PAIN I WAS GETTING AROUND THE LIVER IS GOING AWAY

I DON’T WAKE AT NIGHT WITH A RACING HEART, WONDERING IF I SHOULD VISIT THE HOSPITAL

I HAVE MANY EXCUSES TO DRINK. HOW ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE, AND THE WAY THE ARE

FRUSTRATION AT LIFE, CAREER NOT GOING YOUR WAY. LOVE A BARREN HORIZON

THROW IN A PANDEMIC. WHAT MORE OF A REASON DO YOU NEED

BUT A DRINKING SESSION IS ONLY A VERY TEMPORARY RELIEF, FOLLOWED BY DEPRESSION ABOUT WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN, AND ANXIETY FOR THE FUTURE UNSEEN, AND FEELING SO PHYSICALLY UNWELL

IT’S NOW AT LEAST THREE DAYS BEFORE I’M BACK ON MY FEET. A LOT TO DO WITH AGE, OF COURSE

WHEN I WAS YOUNGER I COULD BOUNCE BACK, BUT NOW NOT SO MUCH

FILL YOUR BODY WITH A REGISTERED POISON, AND CARCINOGENIC, YOU’VE ONLY YOURSELF TO BLAME

DON’T BE SURPRISED WHEN YOUR BODY SAYS HEY FOOL, WE’RE LEAVING ALL THIS ABUSE. GOODBYE TO YOU 

WHAT IS IT THAT ALCOHOL GIVES TO ME ? A CHANGE OF MY MENTAL STATE. A NUMBING OF MY FEELING STATE, AND AIN’T THAT REALLY GREAT

A TEMPORARY REPRIEVE OF ALL THAT CAUSE ME TO SEETH, WITH ANGER AND FRUSTRATION YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE

CALMS MY MIND FOR AN HOUR OR TWO, UNTIL LIKE SOME WILD HURRICANE, THESE FORCES ARE AGAIN UNLEASHED DOUBLED UP AND MORE CRUEL TOO

DON’T LIKE THE WAY I THINK. DON’T LIKE THE WAY I FEEL, WITH ALCOHOL ONBOARD

BUT DRINK IS PART OF THE CULTURE, IT’S WHAT A MAN MUST DO

ALCOHOL BRINGS PEOPLE TOGETHER, ENCOURAGES A SENSE OF COMMUNITY AND TOGETHERNESS IN A JOB, IN A TEAM. WE’RE ALL IN THIS ALTOGETHER, KNOW WHAT I MEAN, OR SO WE’RE LED TO BELIEVE

BY THE POWERFUL MARKETING DEPARTMENTS OF GLOBAL ALCOHOL CORPORATIONS WORLDWIDE

HAVE WE ALL BEING HOODWINKED, AND TAKEN FOR RIDE / FOOLS

A CELERATION, A SADNESS. TOO BUSY, MAYBE BORED, WHY HERE ARE SOME TOOLS YOU CAN USE

THEIRS BEER TO BRING GOOD CHEER. SPIRITS TO COMMISERATE A LOSS

WINE TO HELP YOU COPE, NOW THAT THESE CHILDREN ARE IN BED

NEED TO BE MORE SOCIAL, WHY NOT TRY A COCKTAIL OR TWO

YOU TOO CAN BE SOPHISTICATED AND CHARMING, AND HAVE LOVERS CHASING AFTER YOU

JUST LIKE WE SEE IN THE MOVIES AND THE ADVERTS TOO

WANT TO BE A TOUGH GUY, HAVE A DRINK OR TWO

I DON’T WANT TO BE LIKE THOSE DAM TEETOTALERS, SO CHRISTIAN AND GODLIKE 

HOW BORING CAN THAT BE, ADRIFT IN A SEA OF SOBRIETY

WHAT ABOUT YOUR WILD SPIRIT, AND A QUEST TO BE FREE

DO I WANT TO LIVE THAT BORING LIFE, ALL GOODY TWO SHOES, AND NEVER STEPPING OUT OF LINE

WHILE THAT MAY BE FINE FOR OTHERS, DON’T KNOW IF I WANT TO MAKE SUCH A LIFE MINE

THERE SEEMS MORE DOWNSIDES THAN UPSIDES DRINKING NOW

HEALTH WORRIES, DEPRESSION, ANXIETY. ACTIONS TAKEN AND LATER REGRETTED

PROMISES MADE TO MYSELF AND NEVER FOLLOWED THROUGH ON

HIDING FROM LIFE AND WHAT I TRULY FEEL. EMOTIONAL MATURITY STILL AT AGE 15

WHEN ALCOHOL FIRST GOT A HOLD OF ME

 A WAY TO ESCAPE A HOMELIFE THAT WAS TOO DIFFICULT TO SEE

MY WAY OF HIDING FROM WHAT WAS IN FRONT OF ME

WITH THAT IN THE PAST, DO I NEED TO CONTINUE DOWN THIS PATH

Go Now.

Photo by Jilbert Ebrahimi on Unsplash

Another night of drunken fighting
Can we not let some light in
Accusations and castigation’s
That don’t amount to much

Why can’t we be at peace
Why can’t all this fighting and upset cease
Will it be like this for ever more

Do you remember what you said last night
It hurt, I’m wounded, its still rumbling round inside my head
Do you even remember, can you even recall
Beating my bloodied head against the bathroom wall

I hate you now, you damn fool
I ain’t in no mood to forgive and forget
Take your belongings and get out of my head, my life
Go, cease and desist, you’ll be little missed

I curse you, never forgive you, with all of my might.

——————————————-

Written in response to a writing prompt, from my newly enrolled creative writing group. The prompt being : ‘trying to piece together the night’s events’.

 

 

Fragrance

Fragrance

He never believed her. Never in his wildest dreams did he think it was possible. Although she had told him many times she would do it. As he sat up in bed, the beads of perspiration were slowly trickling down his forehead. He pulled at his pajamas which were damp and sticky. Afraid to switch on the light, for fear of what he might see.
There it was again, the unmistakable scent of her favourite perfume. The third time this week. He cursed himself for the alcohol he had indulged himself with the previous evening, and the evening before that, and so many other evenings. In the darkness he called out to the Lord to protect him, and began to mumble what he could remember of the Lord’s prayer, which he repeated a further four times, at speed. He always asked of the Lord, but never gave to the Lord. He gripped the white bedsheets tightly, perspiration running down his forehead. He nudged the woman who lay beside him, but to no avail.  Her overindulengence in a variety of cocktails the previous evening, ensured she would be sleeping for hours. He glanced at her disheveled hair, her fading make up revealing a face ravaged by many years of heavy alcohol use. The black mascara fading from round her eyes, revealing a less than pretty face. At least not as attractive now, as it seemed last evening in the glamorous settings of the 5 star hotel, they had visited, with the other well to do people, they called friends.

While she was alive, she watched him over many years squander the family savings in a self indulgent lifestyle of illicit extra marital affairs. A hedonistic lifestyle of alcohol, the finest of food, expensive holidays, all without her. An uncaring attitude towards his family, and responsibilities he had signed up for when he had married her, and brought their children into the world. As they grew further apart, but because of religion and for appearances sake, they presented to the world, the picture of the happily married couple, and their lovely children. A couple whose life was wonderful, and harmonious. It was anything but.

‘When I die, I will come back to haunt you, You will never have any peace’.

Her voice reverberating around the dull, grey kitchen. Badly in need of updating. But as he was the breadwinner, he had steadfastly refused to spend any of his funds on anything but self indulgent activities and events.
He ignored her, while concentrating on the hearty breakfast he had fixed himself, hoping it would help with the severe hangover he was suffering from.

‘Mark my words ,’ she continued.

He laughed and scoffed at her words. Perhaps in hindsight, not the wisest choice of action. The day passed quickly, as he feared. His lady companion from the previous evening, arose from the bed come mid afternoon, and decided to return to her own home. The drunken fitful sleep, not helping her appearance , or mood in any way, whatsoever. Even though he had tired of her, and was ready to move on from her. Out of fear and insecurity, of what the night would bring, he begged her to stay. Even offering another alcohol fueled day at his expense. She briefly considered his offer. But decided against it.

‘Don’t bother coming back, then’, he shouted at her as she slammed the front door on the way out.

Another relationship, ready for the bin. Unable to settle as the evening wore on, he sat in front of the television, in the darkened room. Looking but not really seeing the flickering pictures. He poured himself a second glass of the red liquid. Holding the glass tightly. It’s strength burning his throat on it’s passage to his brain. He welcomed the effect the alcohol was beginning to have on his mind, his courage and bravado. If ever there was an elixir of life, this was it.
A miracle invention, he mumbled to himself. Contemplating had he being President he would most certainly have awarded these genius, as that’s how him viewed them, at the very least, The Congressional Medal of Honor. How he would have awarded to them the highest scientific accolades the country could offer. Such was his admiration for such a marvellous invention.
The evening passed quickly. Afraid to go to the bedroom alone, he sat in front of the television. Eventually the effects of tiredness, and a further two glasses of the red liquid, forced sleep upon him. Without him being aware of it, he was asleep.
In the dream, she stood before him, laughing. Just as he remembered her, when she was alive. How he hated her effervescent, her vibrant spirit. His attempts to destroy her lively spirit, a failure. How she would continually bounce back, was a complete, and very irritating mystery to him.

‘I told you I’d come back to haunt you’, she laughed.

With alcohol induced bravery and courage, he responded.

‘You’re only a dream, that’s all you are. When I wake up, you will be gone’.

Again she laughed.

The dream finished and he continued to a more peaceful sleep. He was awoken by his body calling to him to use the bathroom. He opened his eyes slowly, reacquainting himself with the room. In the semi darkness, her white shimmering figure, surrounded by a blue haze, hovered above the fireplace. Her vibrant laughter filling the room. He screamed, just like a woman. The more he screamed, the more she laughed. He ran from the room, perspiration dripping from his forehead. His heart beating as fast as it had ever being, if not more so. His legs shaking with fear. He called out to the Lord Jesus to protect him. He ran to the kitchen, now updated of course, and locked the door. He turned from the door breathing heavily and quickly. Again her white shimmering figure stood before him, hovering above the floor, and laughing. He ran for the door, unlocked it and ran upstairs to the spare bedroom. Entered, and locked and bolted the door behind him. Again breathing very heavily and quickly. The chemical concoction in his stomach, wild and on fire. He recognised her laughter, and her fragrance. He did not need to look. He unbolted the door at speed, and ran from the room.
Wide eyed he fled down the stairs taking steps two at a time. Her laughter and fragrance followed him. It was the last four steps that did it. The resounding thump, as his head hit the final step. The slowly seeping blood from his ear. His inability to feel his legs. His breathing becoming slow, and labored. His senses on their final journey. His hearing becoming very faint. But enough to hear her laughter and breath in the scent of her fragrance just one last time.