Relapse Poem by Amy Serhienko

For Daddy

I'm thirteen years old again,
watching as you tear apart the fabric of our lives.
Watching as you move closer to the oblivion you cherish,
and further from those who cherish you.
Watching as you shatter the fragile truce we've finally achieved.
Unable to help you
because you choose not to help yourself.
Wondering whether you're beyond help.
How, after twenty years, if this possible?
Is it truly a disease?
Or the actions of a man who can't bear to
play the hand he's been dealt?
You're so blinded by your past
that you can't see a future.
So you choose a self-fulfilling prophecy -
you choose death,
and travel the road which will take you there.
And I can only watch.