Withhold a form of liberty when I tell you about my sobriety. 

A supporter became contorted with a conflict of rhetoricals. 

If I obsess over the pains of the past, maybe they can turn into something vast. You’re the puzzle piece I can still feel latch onto my curves. I can feel your skin rubbed against my plastic covered cardboard. 

Cravings no longer hold my hand, no longer feeling its sweat on my palm. Though it still curves itself around my pinky. A craving isn’t a want in this case.

I don’t want to escape. 

I want to feel. 

I want to feel every fiber of my being. 

And of yours. 

I want to digest my new experiences,

Not assimilate into yours. 

I want to feel a jovial day where I no longer have to look out at you in immense guilt from just the very sight. 

I look out at you from the window of a four story building, 

I look out at you like a starving man. 

I gasp for air. 

I can feel our connection being taken away from me. 

It’s forced away. 

It’s not a choice. 

Yet it is. 

Am I the one to alter our realities? 

I no longer want to be your sacrifice and I pray that I’m suffice. 

Suffice to stay. 

To love for. 

I don’t want to be your restrictions. 

It’s interesting when I see it from this newfound perspective. I was in that position though it didn’t worsen to that extent. Being sober often feels lonely.  It was almost like drugs brought us into a community. It wasn’t a great community, but we bonded over this unity. I’m a teenager! It’s fun and fine! We are fine! It is fine! It’s a memory! It’s an experience! An experience that you have little to no recollection of. These phrases ring in my ears. There’s a thick line between fun and concerning and I’ve been watching you claw your way to the other side. My words mean nothing other than a warning. A warning to take away my senses and build up a wall with bolts and wrenches. I’ll unscrew my way through even if it means you’ll be plainly rude. It’s okay to dismiss me if that’s what you need. 

I want to be your friend, not your caregiver. I beg of you to not make me your caregiver. The one at your beck and call when you need to experience a free fall. 

But I’ll care because you’re on a pedestal I’ve put above all.