Hi. I’m Bill and I’m a grateful addict.
Grateful that in five years I’ve learned this much;
I truly am as sick as my secrets
And hiding my high kept me way out of touch.
I built a sick normal for me and my bud.
Packing midnight bowls in the garage alone,
Just to grow drowsy, then dreamless in bed,
Then wake and bake to get back to the stone.
My moment of clarity was nothing more
Than an instant when asked by my daughter
Why I kept bottles of weeds in my drawer.
I looked at her face without an answer
But deep in my heart I knew what to do
I exhaled. I surrendered. I was through.
Cannabis Use Disorder, Moderate
In Sustained Remission