Since the age of 23, the first time I got a taste of slot machine victory, I have been a gambling addict. It is so hard to type those words, because I’ve used every excuse in the book to tell myself I wasn’t an addict. That stops today. I’m 41 now and I’m done feeling this way.
Writing is my escape. I penned this poem a few weeks ago. I’m sharing it with this group because I know now, for the first time in my life, that I’m not alone.
A solitary thrill
Fleeting in ashes
I breathe again at dawn
Anxious for the epiphany
That shatters with the light
Crawling quicker each time
It pulls me back to hell
Eternal in its success
Bleeding the promised life
Turning my glitter to dust
Lurking all this time
A shadow they don’t see
The show’s too damn good
Perfected slight of hand
They’ve never seen the fall
I have to get back now
Before I crack the facade
Revealing broken trusts
A spotlight on my shame
Known to all instead of one