Building 45

Literary/Arts Journal

Burnt Out Hope

by Roxanne Ruiz

All my life, I have known.
Seen, felt, the embrace of addiction.
The stuff dreams are grown on.
Real life nightmares are made of, not fiction.

As a young child both of my parents were in love.
Although not with each other.
Addiction was there holding hands with both of them,
being my father and my mother.

Addiction held their hearts tight in its embrace,
courting them both at the same time but for each, a different face.
Each with their own flavor of preferred lover.
It was always each to their own, never with one another.

Heroin for the lady, alcohol for the gent.
She couldn't wait to shoot up.
He couldn't wait to get bent.

I watched their addictions destroy them both.
Destroy our family, burnout all hope.
The only thing left after the fire,
caused by their burning desires, was a lesson to learn.

There is only salvation in sobriety.
All the different faces of addiction lead to the same end.
A never-ending tragedy stuck on repeat,
playing the same beat over and over again.