The Comforting Belt Poem by Iman Ali

The comforting belt
I unlit my finished cigar and begin to ponder about life. I've realized that I have become attached to the idea of drug use being a necessity. I think about all the could've been's and should've been's. The maybes that may be. I continue to look for anything that will alter my state of mind, hoping that I will be permanently high. Praying that I will one day get high enough to lose touch with reality. Become distant with reality like the unknown planets that reside from different galaxies. Unfortunately the day has not yet arrived…so I make my way over to my daughter's bed and awaken her from her sleep. I disturb her and slam her on to the floor. I hit her as hard as I can with unbearable force that I swear could break every little bone in her fragile body. I continue to beat her as if the defenseless child has a chance against me. I look to my right and my left, unsure of what exactly I am looking for. Maybe a red octagon sign with the letters stop written on it. Instead I find a belt I grab on to it and begin to unleash all the anger that has ever regulated my self control…