Falling Off The Wagon Poem by Sue Stone

I've fallen off the wagon.
She pushed me,
the b*tch.
I was doing well, for sure,
with this gracious, smiling host,
I could even see the coast,


Lights bedecked the pier head.
She threw me,
the b*tch.
Soft beckoning, bewitched.
She threw me miles off course,
and me, with no resource.

Light recedes behind me.
She blinds me,
the b*tch.
A constant treading water,
ice penetrates my frame,
there's none but her to blame.

A firey trail inside me.
She soothes me,
the b*tch.
My troubles float like cobwebs,
borne on a rising tide
of both of us, allied.

The bile rides up within me,
She troubles me,
the b*tch.
I wretch as I am waking,
the tremor makes me falter,
the waves around me alter.

Gasping and depleted,
she strangles me,
the b*tch.
I strike out. Desperation.
I flounder in self pity,
attempt to reach calm city.

Sand becomes my saviour,
she leaves me,
the b*tch.
The gin bottle lies empty.
My reasoning now grim.

Those who drink to drown their sorrows
find that sorrows learn to swim to swim