detriment

matchstick

recovery:

where empathy meets change; and my ma is ringing my phone. she speaks of how she's proud of me. a term i haven't heard recently, if ever. she says,
"a spark has lightened inside of you" . i don't think it's anything new. i think the fire has just dimmed and become something different. something beautiful. like a matchstick in the dark.

it's two sides of the same coin, but one side is steaming heat. not bullet stricken words, and penny ridden knuckles. when the boy with flames in his eyes stared at
my hands trembling on the bottle of hennessey
"you are the reason i drink."
and i think that he must've cared for me
because he bundled me in blankets and let me sob
to the sound of liquor pouring from my teeth.

now, i sit in the back of a narcotics anonymous meeting.
i listen to the trials and testimonies of people
who don't know me. but they know the cruelty.
they know that the monsters aren't in the closet
but out there; in the parking lots of gas stations
and houses built for two. and they say i am a miracle.
they whisper it , so sure of themselves.
that i should not be alive and breathing.
maybe, it means something.
or just that i am lucky.

i don't know if god is real
but i know that i should be dead by now
and something unworldly saved me