While Listening to the Zombies

In recovery,
Not that I know anything about that,
But I know what it’s like to be mad,
Scared, full of discontent,
And I’m sure that I’ve found direction
To steer clear of all that,

Most of the time,

Which puts me in the life-jacket of
Since it’s still easy for me to find a red line,
To blame others when I’m scared,
To fail to appreciate all that is beautiful around me.

Recovery feels good, though,
Peeling at the scars of hurt,
Confronting the scary shit that is fostered within,
Accepting the moment as a temporary piece of me,
A time that helps me grow and has whatever
I choose to put on it.

Learning to laugh,
Being less judgmental,
Living my truth
Not putting it on others,


Sounding a little angry,
Afraid of something,
Unhappy with a moment.

Baby steps.
“Out of my head,” they sang…

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