Poison in a Bottle

Poison in a Bottle

Poison in a bottle,

labelled something sweet.

Warnings printed far too small,

to notice underneath.

I took a sip believing,

it would calm the ache.

Relief arrived then turned on me,

and asked for more to take.

Some poisons are not substances,

they look like love or ease.

They promise comfort in exchange,

for long term disease.

I learned to read the labels late,

after damage showed.

Recovery is unlearning,

what survival once bestowed.

The bottle sits unopened now,

I know its tricks too well.

Strength is walking past the cure,

that hides a deeper hell.

Temptation speaks in friendly tones,

when you are worn and tired.

It never shows the aftermath,

or what it requires.

I pour the poison down the sink,

watch it disappear.

Choosing pain that heals instead,

is courage, not fear.

The bottle no longer owns my name,

or writes my story still.

I choose clarity over numb,

and that is real will.