Chains of Smoke and Shadows

I stand in the rubble of yesterday’s dreams,

Where needles fell like rain,

And bottles whispered promises they never kept.

Addiction isn’t a word—

It’s a shadow that breathes,

A serpent that coils around hope,

Hissing, “Just one more.”

It began as a flicker,

A taste of escape wrapped in velvet lies.

A high that felt like flying,

Until gravity became my only companion.

The crash,

The ache,

The need.

Oh, the need—

Not for life,

Not for love,

But for oblivion in its cruelest disguise.

A thief that doesn’t knock,

But barges in and takes—

Takes your peace, your power,

Your name.

I tried to bargain,

Trading pieces of myself for one more fix.

But addiction doesn’t make deals.

It devours.

Leaves you hollow,

A ghost with a heartbeat,

A soul with no compass.

But then, a whisper—

Faint as dawn,

Soft as a child’s hand in mine.

“Fight,” it said.

And though my knees buckled under the weight of my past,

I rose.

One shaky step,

Then another.

Recovery isn’t clean.

It’s a battlefield of sweat and tears,

Of breaking chains forged by my own hands.

It’s learning to breathe again,

To see beauty in the cracks of my reflection.

It’s shouting, “I am more!”

To the beast that would have my name.

Now, I carry my scars like armor.

Each one a story,

Each one proof that I’ve lived,

That I’ve fought,

That I’ve won.

Addiction may be a shadow,

But I am the light.

And even in my darkest hours,

I will shine.

#recovery #poetrycommunity