My old friend is calling me...
Urging me,
taunting me with its 
false peace.
I recall the taste of powder,
feel the familiar rush...
and so easily forget the rest.
I now fight to remember...
the anguish.
The fear,
oh God the fear!
When every waking moment 
was a nightmare.

remember...
cold concrete of
the morning after.
Tear filled eyes,
looking upon me with 
total confusion.

remember...
Remorse so thick
that it chokes you.
Breeding self-loathing.
Self-destructive dreams.

remember...
Broken promises
broken hearts.
All the deceit,
and shame
and frustration
and promises
and destroying the ones I love...

remember...
just remember everything.
Make it real. 
Feel how it was.
Beyond the rush,
beyond the peace,
remember the hell.
Remember the hell,
and then see if it is
the choice you really want to make.

Oh God how thankful I am
for being able to 
remember.

© Barry Veinotte

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