It’s funny how he was the one
With the addiction, and yet
I’m the one that has been left
In rehab. Every day they ask me
Questions- How did it happen?
When did it start? Are you fine?
Do you think-
It was him, I scream, not me,
It was he who had the problem
A problem that he chose, time and again,
over me. A problem that chose him,
Like a wand, blasting me aside
In a shower of sparks.
He’s the addict, and yet here I am,
Kicking, Screaming, Crying,
As they send electric surges of normalcy,
Through my nerves. I’m forgetting,
Slowly,steadily the records are blurring.
Maybe, maybe it was me.