“The Rooms”

A moment of silence for the still suffering addict in and outside of these rooms.

Sitting in these rooms smelling of cigarettes and coffee, I pour myself a glass and I go back to a time that wasn’t so simple.

It is important for me not to forget what I have done-

Forgetting means that I become complacent.

Complacency is a dangerous place for me.

I hear others speaking.

The daily meditation revised to fit our stories.

It compels us to tell the truth about our lies.

Who is an addict?

Today and tomorrow, I tell my story of who I was, what I’ve done, and the horrors in between to find common ground with someone else in these rooms.

Someone who is like me.

Then.. I hear it.

My story in someone else’s life.

The struggle.

The rooms breath full of life.

I am here and this matters.

The story I’ve heard affects me.

Someone else lived like me.

I listen for clues to how they’ve fought.

I hear their journey and it fills me with hope that one day I will walk in these rooms and someone will hear me.

As I’ve heard them, they’ll know my experience as theirs.

They’ll find common ground in my words and knows they’re apart of something.

Bigger than words that helps others through our common demons.

We can both find the light in these dim rooms smelling of old cigarettes and coffee.