i wish i was drinking, still.
stopped for no righteousness,
no pure desires;
no health reasons.
stopped because the alcohol
lost its effect–
turned into grape juice.
and expensive for only grape juice!
so i wish i was drinking, still.
wish alcohol worked anymore.
apparently my system decided that’s it,
and would no longer get drunk–
i miss the reward system;
the feeling of being adult;
(i never finished rebelling)
and it’s a delicious feeling
…the smooth glass, the chill of ice;
the verification that I have arrived
to this milestone
that was so forbidden,
so scoffed…and every elegant person
but now no easy way
to sign off a prim wagon.
it’s like conscripted goodness,
when i truly would not have bothered
with this show.
part of me laughs
at being exemplary to state,
“sober for 5 years now!”–
like taking credit for shrugging;
for using the breast stroke on the herd
to keep your head above conformity.
sober is such a subjective concentration of belying condescention:
such a release of convoluted forgetfulness!
i was never NOT sober
it didn’t bother me to be less.