An Addict

I am an addict to my own unhappiness, always searching for another hit

I breathe in sadness

like an addict 

who has only been clean long enough

to know how much it hurts

to lose what once made you feel

more than you had in years

each sigh brings me deeper

drowning under the pain

until all I can remember the next day

is the smell of my tears on my pillowcase

and how much my bones ached

under the idea that I would never be clean again

looking for my next escape

as soon as the weight 

eased off of my veins

and let some of the light in

that burned my throat

as it tried to bring me out

I am what I vowed not to be,

an addict to my own sadness

Reviews

[Franco]

An interesting perspective that I am sure many of us feel at times. I always like poems that are written with evident emotion. "to lose what once made you feel more than you had in years." I understand this is a comparison but it is such an interesting concept, as if the sadness bring the narrator happiness. Happy to be sad. I have so many thoughts on your poem. A nice thinker if you will. Thank you for taking the time to write this.

[Chris]

a sort of self-fulfilling condition... and of course you likely don't notice anyone else that wishes beyond hope that you did notice them... as you wend your ways... little things only matter to those that realize little thing DO matter.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

This is such a sad and desperate piece written with an air of acceptance in a flowing freeverse that sets out the plight of the protagonist as she struggles with life day by day.