Withdrawal but of what is the question, hell what do I have to lose… everything but anyway I haven’t… in about two weeks. Aches and Pains… I want to leave them behind, to become something new but I continue wanting and waiting for love.

This is Mindtrip #2. Mindtrips are best received while you’re wide awake, and your imagination is capable of anything.

This was written on 18 July 2011.

A poem about my struggle with alcoholism.

This was to a young friend who was addicted to drugs and pregnant.

Being a grown woman, longing to be the peoson that I was before I got involved in alcohol nearly a decade ago.

Conflicting feelings.

This poem kinda makes the word Recovery into a funny meaning! Written by E.B. Wilkes.

‘m 17 years old, and I’ve been drinking since I was about 12 or 13. At the time, it all seemed like fun, my parents were alcoholics, and had never told me it was wrong. My dad was also a drug addict, and though I never put two and two together, he has been using right in front of me my whole life.

Am 17 years old. I have been sober for about two years now. I began using alcohol when I was 12 years old. As I got older I couldn’t take being home. It was hell for me. My dad had beaten me for as long as I remember.

Growing up in a household like mine, drinking and drugs were everywhere. I went on my first drug deal at the age of 8… with my dad. I always wanted to find the best in my dad … and I did even through all his addictions.