All Drinking Aside

Like force-fed fowl grown fat before their bones have had a chance to grow, alcohol altered the maturing process and crippled me. My hollowed out bones could not support the weight of alcohol.

My head was a pumpkin carved from the inside. Collapsed. No candle ever lit. Slow motion implosion.

A building destroyed before it was ever built. I hit bottom, left with this ruin. I must pick up the pieces left living and build a new life. Destruction, deconstruction and reconstruction. It is all possible, so long as I keep moving forward. So long as I don't pick up.

 

from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter 72)

 

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