Giving up the Durries

Emotional
like a cat in a cage with a workers boot planted firmly upon my neck
oesophagus screaming for air
screaming words internally
internal words are screaming in bold and arial

they go downwards and pollute my plexus
giving birth to butterflies within my belly

shaking hands shaking
not for the want of it in my mouth
nor in between the tippy tops of my fingertips
but that warmth of reassurance flooding down my throat pipelines

toxic fumes
gases
they envelope and entwine
burning friendly hairs so promptly placed
within the lining of my existence

big wheels keep on turning
moving
masking
outlining the withdrawal of that pesky little drug
that little drug that kills more than heroin, road accidents, etcetera, etcetera...

that pesky drug that has consumed me
and i it
for 15 years of my life

i stub my dog ear out on the edge of the bin
inhaling deeply the toxicity of pollutants that strip the essential oils from my energy
i smile in sight of my freedom

seven days of anxiety almost depression is a small price to pay
for a remainder of life without addiction