This is a poem I wrote after talking to my dad about what it was like to go through withdrawals from a 40 year alcohol addiction.

Sloshing froth bursting at the bubbles

Dopamine whirring around

Desperate to swallow something that feels good

Too many hollows tunneling ant hill through the brain

They've made their home there

They'd like to stay.

Del Ir I Um.

What a tragedy.

What psychosis tunneling back of mattress.

Curled up rocking back and madness.

S t  ret  c h

Synapses skin themselves to feel good again



I need it.


Wh irr ing.

Were Ring.

I couldn't understand that the Superbowl was not underground and that when I left to get to the storage shed that it didn't have two levels

Complexity was a fine line and it





Heavily upon it. Shelf.


I was Leveled.

Tendrils heavenly tendrils grew out of me grasping that dopamine that need to swallow.

I was held out there.


The hallways to the God within me.

I fall owed it.

It wasn't there. It wasn't there. It wasn't there.

Submitted: April 22, 2021

© Copyright 2022 Roxanne B.. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:


tom mcmullen

Fine poem Roxanne about a painful reality!

Thu, April 22nd, 2021 9:01am


Thank you so much Tom!! I really appreciate you reading and commenting :)

Sun, May 2nd, 2021 11:43pm

Sharief Hendricks

Roxanne, you really are so talented and what a brave undertaking you embarked on...

I loved it !

Mon, April 26th, 2021 9:12am


Aw thank you so much Sharief!! That truly means the world to me

Sun, May 2nd, 2021 11:47pm

Bert Broomberg

I really liked the layout adding to the message. Well done.

Mon, January 3rd, 2022 8:14pm

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