The Never Man: Recovery

Recovery is slow, and I burn through the days, so my eyes glisten bloodshot red

when I swallow the morning; I almost choke on the sun, needing to eat light

cause this darkness is keeping my arteries tight.

I took out a loan on time cause I never have enough left over
As it slips through my hands. I’m the Never Man, never could-never can.
I never juked right; I barely ran. I’m in recovery and it’s slow processing and second guessing, terminal outpatient raving and foolish, puerile cravings of a young man, aging. The years grant gifts of periodic joy, I wander and wonder why I play life so coy, why I’m shuffling my packaged feelings like an errand boy.

Recover. Repair. Under duress, my blessings are a semblance of sleepy-eyed gestures within spiritual haze. A hollow wish pulls an empty gaze, a blind rodent scurrying through a tattered maze. The abandoned home. The missing page. I’m the actor performing his show off-stage, the unheard soliloquy fueled with rage.

I wake up and grab my cup and choke down the sun. I want to feel it going down but my body’s too numb. The Never Man: never free, never done, never defeated but always unsung. Recovery is slow, but the madness is fun, and I burn through the nights just to choke down the sun. I learn through the days and the battles I have won. I burned through the age to the man I've become.

The Cup of Water

I was talking to my boy yesterday, and he relayed a story to me that he had heard from his marriage counselor, who just happened to be a chaplain. The chaplain said that he wanted his congregation to really understand the message he was trying to convey, so he decided to give them a visual aid. He picked up a glass and put water into it. He then picked up the cup and held his hand out. The chaplain motioned for a young boy to come to the pulpit and shake the arm that held the cup of water. The boy, more than eager to comply, walked up to the pulpit and shook his arm vigorously. Of course, the water spilled out from the cup. With that done, the chaplain asked his congregation: “Why did the water fall out of the cup?”

Many answered that it fell out because the boy shook it. Others gave outlandish answers that were far from the mark. After asking quite a few people, the chaplain decided to give them the answer, which was simply this: The water spilled from the cup because it was there in the first place.

See, it mattered not what was in the cup. When someone shakes the cup, its contents will come spilling out. What he was trying to say is that what’s inside of us will come out when we are tested. What was really inside, good or bad, will show when we are faced with trouble or adversity.

Just thought I’d share that one with y’all. Have a good day.