Withdrawal
Posted: 26 November 13 Filed under: Poems/Songs | Tags: Andy Copeland, Art, Depression, Drugs, Morning, Poem, Sleep, Solitude, Time, Waiting, Withdrawal, Writing 1 CommentBy Andy Copeland
The quiet whirring of the fan
Fades
Into my reality
As the dark
Behind my eyelids
Is replaced
By the darkness
In front of me
Last I remember,
I fell
Smiling
Sinking
Into the cushions of this couch
But now my head is clear
My blood is clean
And my mouth is dry
It’s out
People around me snore
While my wretched withdrawal ensues
I rise
Stuff a cigarette in my mouth
The staccato flick
Of my Bic
My soft stirrings bring the dog by
Feet underneath me now,
My secret sneak starts
Socks silently sliding along the wood
Everyone slumbers tonight
But I’ll see the sun when it comes up
April 2013