Sitting here with only myself to talk to

as it’s much too late at night to bother anyone with a phone call.

Anyway, I was on the line too much already today

with less than salubrious results.

I am depressed.

I made a mistake, and talked to a long lost brother

who is much more lost than I had imagined

the conversation evolved into an emotional struggle between us,

with him attempting to convey his thoughts through an unrelenting fog of vodka,

and me–striving vainly to decipher whatever message he was sending.

I only know that he is suffering immense depths of pain

–and that I have no power with which to relieve him.

I feel so sad.

and empty.

I would wish to save the world, but mostly

my brother.

My loved ones. I don’t want to lose another brother.

If I could give him everything I have, would I?

To save his life? I believe so. God, I hope so.

I feel terribly weak tonight.

One of those times when my own sobriety seems so tenuous.

Are we all just hanging by a thread?

I see my shimmering line shining silver straight to the god of my understanding,

if it breaks, I am lost.

I see my defects tonight–it is too late in the night.

I can’t go to bed. All my hundreds of nights of long ago lows

are coming home to roost tonight. Reminding, warning…

It will always be there, lurking — my disease.

The promise of insanity and broken hearts.

The illusion of my drugs.

Please God, whereever you’re hanging out this night,

look down upon my little brother

and love him.

He needs you tonight.

And so do I.