KD
  • Home
  • About
    • Contributors List
    • KD's Blog
    • Award Nominations
    • Support
    • Contact
  • Press
  • Issues
    • Issue 49
    • Issue 48
    • Issue 47
    • Issue 46
    • Issue 45
    • Issue 44
    • Issue 43
    • Issue 42
    • Issue 41
    • Issue 40
    • Issue 39
    • Issue 38
    • Issue 37
    • Issue 36
    • Issue 35
    • Issue 34
    • Issue 33
    • Issue 32
    • Issue 31
    • Issue 30
    • Issue 29
    • Issue 28
    • Issue 27
    • Issue 26
    • Issue 25
    • Issue 24
    • Issue 23
    • Issue 22
    • Issue 21
    • Issue 20
    • Issue 19
    • Issue 18
    • Serenity
    • Issue 17
    • The Audio Room
    • Issue 16
    • Issue 15
    • Issue 14
    • Play It Again
    • Issue 13
    • Issue 12
    • Issue 11
    • Issue 10
    • Issue 9
    • Issue 8
    • Issue 7
    • Issue 6
    • Hand to Mouth
    • Issue 5
    • Issue 4
    • Issue 3
    • Issue 2
    • Issue 1
  • Submissions

Carson Wolfe

I rack up lines of a poem when the drugs are gone

I have been sober for 21 days.       My therapist
 
says hiking can control my urges,       so I chalk
 
up 106 miles this week.       Withdraw to woods
 
where the sun glares with God  upon the river,
 
projecting a mirror that scorches       my pupils
 
like ants under a child’s cruel glass.        I crave
 
the sanctum of the house    where we all party.
 
                                                             And blackout
 
blinds bottle the night for me to keep  drinking
 
until I lick the last drop of dignity.        I squirm
 
my way into a hollowed out tree    and unleash
 
the impish fiend burrowed in my nose.    I itch
 
and twitch and scratch   I was here    I was here
 
into the belly of the bark with my    coke claws
 
until they are filed down to nubs.    I’m the one
 
who enjoyed herself too much.   Never learned
 
when to stop                       or how to comedown
 
to the sound of black birds chirping at  sunrise
 
believing it was not they who were the enemy.

Biography

Picture
During lockdown, I changed my Instagram bio to “poet” and adopted a cat so I can live like a real writer. My work has since appeared in an anthology by Hidden Voices, Brag Magazine, and Stone of Madness Press, amongst others. I Instagram from Manchester, U.K @vincentvanbutch.
back to issue
​Next Poem →
Picture
ISSN 2639-426X
© COPYRIGHT 2018-2021. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
  • Home
  • About
    • Contributors List
    • KD's Blog
    • Award Nominations
    • Support
    • Contact
  • Press
  • Issues
    • Issue 49
    • Issue 48
    • Issue 47
    • Issue 46
    • Issue 45
    • Issue 44
    • Issue 43
    • Issue 42
    • Issue 41
    • Issue 40
    • Issue 39
    • Issue 38
    • Issue 37
    • Issue 36
    • Issue 35
    • Issue 34
    • Issue 33
    • Issue 32
    • Issue 31
    • Issue 30
    • Issue 29
    • Issue 28
    • Issue 27
    • Issue 26
    • Issue 25
    • Issue 24
    • Issue 23
    • Issue 22
    • Issue 21
    • Issue 20
    • Issue 19
    • Issue 18
    • Serenity
    • Issue 17
    • The Audio Room
    • Issue 16
    • Issue 15
    • Issue 14
    • Play It Again
    • Issue 13
    • Issue 12
    • Issue 11
    • Issue 10
    • Issue 9
    • Issue 8
    • Issue 7
    • Issue 6
    • Hand to Mouth
    • Issue 5
    • Issue 4
    • Issue 3
    • Issue 2
    • Issue 1
  • Submissions