I have struggled with addiction for 26 years.

Addiction has robbed my power.

This moment in life wasn't my finest hour.

Once I used I was hooked.

Another chapter in my book.

The book I am writing is almost completed. 

In this book I have not succeeded. 

All the page turn with blazing speed. 

Sweat on forehead begins to bead.

Anxiety grows like a weed.

Heart is pumping. 

Legs feel weak.

This book could use a little tweak.

Flipping though, remensing. 

Book looks good but something is missing.

Not in the ink or the structure I've laid.

But the weigh of the promises never made.

I stop the turning and steady my breath.

Seeking life that survives its death.

I lay down my pen, let my heavy heart cease.

Turning my reflections into a beautiful piece.