Gateway Poem

Her name was Alcohol

But she went by many aliases:

Merlot, Patron, Ciroc, Cristal just to name a few

My mother used to walk in on my father and her

his lips around hers, hands caressing her neck and hips

he was drunk in love for her and she knew she could get him to do anything she wanted him to

I saw what she did to him; how she put my family and my parent's marriage at stake

and sent him down a pipeline, it's been almost two years since I've seen him

I was never attracted to her...spirits

good thing I'm gay right?

 

No, she-they don't discriminate

Alcohol is a shape shifter, a magician:

able to take the form of what you are missing in life (if not responsible)

They are legion, spirits and false libations making eighth-ass promises to you

they shape shifted , produced an image of a man so fine, that he knocked my ass out cold

I thought that he loved me, but all he did was help the pills go down,

sliding down my tongue,a failed game of chutes and ladders

My weighted feet pushed my bed room miles away

climbing up my stairs was a tomb raider adventure, but my first name is not Lara

and I almost stumbled onto the floor, but he cought me, and his soft voice turned into a multitude

speaking in unision they whispered "shh.." they laid me down gently and closed my eyes

 

Woke up with the sharpest pain in my stomach and  painful etches into my skin; an archipelago of scabs on my right arm

Tripped walking up the stairs at school, hung over, throat burning, sent home early

Told no one, made me sign a discretion contract in my own tears

When asked what was wrong I just said I had a..stomach ache

None of them were escapes for me

I wandered around looking for someone or something to guide me through, to help me escape

To be my gateway drug but I was left with no promises

 

My mans Kush said he'd hook me up, but I'm terrified of pipelines and steel bars

 

Went to Kensington and saw the ghosts on Allegheny Street;

pale, dirty blonde and toothless

They wore their scars with honor, but it came at a price

Confined to corners, bodegas, abandoned houses the smell of rotten flesh and coffee is enough to make me vomit

I went to college and heard of the great Aderall, promising to cheer me up and help me focus

But I enjoy sleep, I'm grateful for the little that I can get

My bed transforms into a cloud at 5:00 AM

I sit up empty handed, voices of defeat manifesting itself into Titans, voices growing louder

 

Pencil and sketchbook on floor, used as shield and sword

Was able to bury them in Gaea's uterus. I knew that they would mature soon, but I was high and ddin't care

Some smoke, drink, snort or shoot up, but I put paper to pen and he alters my sense of time and space

and flowers engulf my feet and he causes it to rain coconut oil and tea tree and it drips down my head and rolls down my buttocks

and I no longer am afraid when I hear "shh" I know that when he says that, the gates bust wide open

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Tara Snyder

im crying.it sucks because no one understands or cares,then we fall deep into pain an deppression because thats all we are treated with it makes it doublly hard to deal with if were in the LGBTQ community because then we become the ash tray for insults.I appreciated your poem.

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