Easy Fix (poem)

 Easy Fix

It was the sort of feeling

I always drank on:

Frustration,

Banging my head against a wall

Screwing myself into a ball

Wanting to shout out, to get away,

To calm my mind, a need to relax.

The easy fix that always works.

Flushing myself through with poison

Washing what’s inside away

To find myself in exquisite numbness.

Short term gain and long term pain.