Failed Rehab Poem by Jesse Swedlund

</>I walk into the meeting and sit down,
Trying not to be seen.
I feel ashamed to be here,
But I know I have a problem.

I crave the substance,
Yet it has brought me ruin.

I squander away my savings on it,
Until I have nothing left.

I need it. I must have it.
But that will be the past.

“Hello. Please tell us your name and why you’re here.”
His calm and soothing voice relaxes me.
“My name is Jesse, and I have a problem.”
“Well admitting that is the first step to recovery.”
The smug look on his face enrages me.
“I don’t want to stop! It makes me feel good! ” I yell.

I run out of the meeting and to the nearest convenient store.
I grab the first jar of peanut butter and eat the whole thing.
I laugh with maniacal joy! My addiction has been satisfied…
For now.