End game.


The word brings tension to the body.

It brings a tingling to the lips

and a need to whisper secret maladies.


For an addict the word is a loaded gun.

Say it loudly and suddenly you are out-ed.

Say it softly and suddenly you are imprisoned.


A word with so much potential.

A word with a bitter-sweet sickness.

A word with so much power it can make you feel so very small.


So hopeful, enchanted, by its message.

So positive entrapped by its essence.

So wonderful, it can make the world bright again.

Recovery, it ends.


Replaces every sentiment.

A word with such shame the sound brings tension to the body.

Tingles to the lips and cravings for the wrist.


For an addict it is a loaded gun.

A bitter-sweet reminder that it never changes.

A harsh reality that it does not get better.


A suffocation.

A realization.

An end.

(August 27 2013)