I never lack an audience
even if it's just one person
i have
the cranium of poetry
humbly poised to be placed high
nirvana in a verse
is not to be flaunted
just like the distant incident of snow
remains far and illusive
only the wind knows
the interstice between the heaven and the ocean
the interstices amidst the words
only time knows
i never lack an audience
even if all the readers
who have come from all bearings
have gone
well, i knew that sooner or later
they will leave too
i just hope that when they do
they don't forget it all like a hangover
that'd be a cinch
i never need an audience
time is always by my side
the one true
underwriter.

I don’t know most things
Having been infected by a virus called ignorance
From the very moment I came into existence
Wreaking havoc on my direct surroundings
Borrowing the names of family, friends, acquaintances
Fellow contenders for defeating the exact same disease

Too often transitory symptoms manifest themselves
Reminding me I’m not cured, and probably never will be
Despite these books accumulating on those familiar shelves
Obvious solution to our shared tragedy
Namely, being aware of our known unknowns
And unbothered by the gaping hole formed by our unknown unknowns
Sparing our master contraption practicing under the alias “black box”
From debilitating pains, the need for detox

Depicting a situation that appears as gloomy
I realize there are still reasons to be happy
One is that my evident individual ignorance
Actually, vanishes into our collective knowledge
That modestly admitting my shortcomings acts as penance
Granting me what could be considered as a privilege

As I, as we, may and should always learn
Allowing our innate curiosity to indefinitely churn
Helping us endlessly push the bounds of technology
Making ancient dreams a reality
Past miracles a present triviality
Former impossibles a current maybe.

I guess I am a worrier
But it is purely out of love
She is my safe haven
To her I'm a safety net

We're we made for each other?
I doubt and I don't care
It'd be hard to assume perfection; when
The world isn't immaculate

We are both too chaotic
Too charred to be pristine
Scarred, it's never-ending
But we try to live as is

Sunshines and rainbows,
Cloudy skies and meadows,
Storms and tempests,
All bearable with you.

Pardon me stranger,
Could I have a moment of your time?
Are you available to give to me,
A smidge of your mind?

I can see the ashes in your eye,
Grey and flaking out as you blink,
Falling like gentle snow,
Small puffs as they hit the ground,
Leaving a gentle trail in your wake.

The gentle sounds of a crackling fire following you,
Each and every step,
Much akin to the crinkling of a pop can,
A bittersweet reminder of the things you've had to take.

The scent that wafts from you,
The smell of charred oak,
That oh-so unique sensation,
Of destruction, or something that was used to create?

That warmth that seems to emanate from your very soul.
Seeping into everyone that you pass,
The dying gasps of a forest fire?
Or of a carefully tended campfire,
To fend off a winter's cold embrace?

So if you can,
Kind stranger,
A piece is all I ask,
So that I may see,
So that I may partake.

Recovery, Initially, is about knowing;  Knowing that change is necessary,
Accepting that your life is not where you want it to be,  About facing up to your fears and anxiety
Then taking the first step eventually… When you, and you alone, feel you are ready.

Recovery, Critically, demands pure honesty, requires the utmost integrity
Most Especially, when confronting your past traumas, your history
Though it may make you feel angry, sad and often times guilty
This process is key if you really want to move on, to change truly.    

Recovery, Truthfully, is far from easy,  It can be fraught with challenges, setbacks, difficulty.
It can hurt physically and even worse emotionally, Testing your will power to the extremity.
It takes great Strength, Courage and Bravery; Determination, Resilience, in the face of adversity

Recovery, Thankfully, need not be a lonely journey, Though you alone must take ultimate responsibility.
There are lots of supports out there happily; from good friends, family and in your community
Though it can be hard to ask for help, understandably…Let not pride undermine your recovery.

Recovery, Ultimately, is about getting where it is you want to be, about starting anew daily
About achieving realistic goals you have set regularly, Learning from the process; what worked successfully
Starting to believe in yourself gradually, Gaining an insight into what you are capable of ...potentially

Finally, Recovery is for all, a lifelong journey, Guarding against ambivalence, relapse, constantly.
Knowing that every day will, in reality,  pose real threats for you in your recovery
But every day also presents an opportunity… to engage with, enjoy, your life more fully.

I woke up today,
My thoughts scrambling
Through my head,
The noise is uncomfortable,
So much that I can’t go back to sleep.

I stand up to go to work,
I untie my hands and do my usual,
I get dressed and out of the corner of my eye
Shadows dance and drink, making a mess of my room.

I try not to pay attention, as they drop me down the stairs, right to my front door.

I reach for the doorknob,
I grab and tap it.
Waiting for it to open,
But shivers run down my spine.

As my lungs fill with red and oranges as I inhale
And an emptiness only the woods understand
As I exhale,
My hands continue to tap the doorknob
From Right to left
A symphony to my hears,
Dopamine On the tip of my fingers

Suddenly but not so sudden
the door opens,

And I feel,
I feel like a knight without his armor,
Like a doctor without his stethoscope,
Like a prisoner without his cell
Like a kid without his favorite toy.

Maybe I feel too much,
Maybe feeling is not the problem here,
Maybe I’m wondering about the wrong thing
And I need to remind myself to breath
Because the emptiness its unbearable.

Something is missing,
I should go back inside.