You entered a labyrinth
with no way out.
A maze contorted
to confound and deceive.
You lost your footing
and fell halfway through the earth.
You played a fool’s game of chess
and lost everything
before you caught a whiff
of your grizzled opponent.
Alcohol is not your friend.
You learned that early
when your mother
took your hand in hers
and held a bottle in the other.
Returning home to suffer
your father’s anger and abuse.
Now you crumble, sprawled
on the bathroom floor,
hoping the next time you vomit
quiets the swirling in your head
and the churning in your stomach.
Trying to pull
the porcelain and tile
up around you for comfort.
Aching to go back
and have the night over again.
Decisions made, instead of
just wandering into them.
The wretched feeling.
There’s no stench
like the gritty mucous of the past
rising in your throat.
INSTANT NOODLES 