Shiver

Two hours to get two feet on the floor. Another hour before I even start to think about eating. Trying to decide how I can get out of the commitments I’ve made today. Continue reading →

Two hours to get two feet on the floor. Another hour before I even start to think about eating. Trying to decide how I can get out of the commitments I’ve made today. Continue reading →

“Yes you did. You just masked it.”
I constructed an idea of who I am out of hundreds of nights spent smoking cigarettes and drinking bourbon. Trimmed it with drug abuse. Dusted it with a series of destructive relationships. The things I did defined me. They let me ignore the person underneath. I was a series of actions. Choices without a skeleton to hold them. Fragility. Vulnerability. Insecurity, frustration, and anger. There was no place for them between empty bottles and bloody noses. I could pretend I was the person the substances made me. In that there was safety. Continue reading →

Hungry. Not just their bellies. They want someone to see them. Someone to let them know that they’re noticed. They matter. They’re still worthy human beings.
Never in my life have I wondered where my next meal would come from. There were weeks when every meal was Top Ramen and cigarettes, but the meals always existed. I always had the luxury of being more concerned with my monthly booze budget. I made the decision to focus on getting high or drunk over getting fed, but always got fed anyway. I’m thankful for that. But I know the other kind of hunger. The kind Bruce Springsteen sings about. The one that volunteers and donation centers can’t combat. Continue reading →