Poem: Last Night, Chronicles Of An Alcoholic (A, B, C)

This is what happens, when poetry connects two writers from different parts of the world. Enjoy!!!


My name is Chronicle,
I am an alcoholic,
My heart whispers the words,
My mouth shuts them out,
Many beds and bottles later,
Different men,
I stand here,
Looking at my life,
My children see a mother
I see a woman with a horrid present,
The man I call my husband,
Still sleeping next to me day by day
His brown eyes full of love each night

He believes I’m the same woman he married 6 years ago

Or a part of her is still alive

I feel it all,
None of them the respect he deserves,
What I do will never be enough,
I cannot bear to see his face sometimes
His love haunts me,
His kindness makes me angry,

He knows,

I know he knows my sins
And he still takes me to be his wife,
For better or for worse,
I need another drink,
The last bottle is the bushes,
Memories on my mind take over,
The drinks,
The hangovers,
The many men I woke up next to,
A constant reminder of my infidelity,
Staggering to bar
Pouring the strongest I have,

I need it.
Even if it leads me to sleep,
The first sip of it,
And I feel as if the earth is on its axis again,
I watch him sit next to me,
His eyes wandering,
I know what he wants,
I can do this all over again,
I never stop,
Maybe this will be my last
I feel his hand on my back,
I know this move,
His brown eyes pleading,
I push the glass away,
He touches my belly,
My big pregnant belly,
Guilt overwhelms me,
One more drink,
Will make me forget,
That I do not know who the father is.
@kvhuyi (bunnyvu.wordpress.com)


Anastasiaruth Replies:



Ever since the day I met her,
She has filled my every sense
My imagination and my drive
Like a man in need, she became my very need
From a friend, to my lover and now my wife
She closed my sour days
Making me feel like a man again
Even when I went out and ate countless fruits
Just because I found a new reason and got a lot more silver

I knew too well to let her alone
But I did
I left my vows
And led her astray
Telling her anyone else could satisfy her
And leaving my duties to where ever she found it
Though she never spoke that she got it,
I knew she went out for it
Raising my hands against her,
The very hands I charged her with, when I handcuffed her finger
But then my fruits made me sick
Visiting the clinics with the silvers I had
So yes, I know her sin
I pushed her to it

I sit next to her
I watch her every move
I plead with her
As she gulps a poison that may take an innocent soul
I know too well to say
I wish I did that earlier
I hold on to her belly,
Praying it is mine
That though I led her astray
And she saw the bottle as her companion
The night I returned home with my sain self
Could be the night the soul in her came to be.


Down in this sac, I hear sounds
I hear a lot of voices but don’t know what it means
I get a flow that makes me sick
A flow from the pipe I get my meals
Sometimes it makes me sick, sometimes it makes me weak
Sometimes I want nothing more
And think I shall take more of it
When I leave this sac
I throw into the pipe and hear someone else throw out too
I see nothing but I take in what comes into the pipe

A little while and I would be out of here
Out to see who made those sounds
Out to see what holds this sac
Out to see what moves on the sac when it ain’t moving
And gives me the flow that makes me sick.


5 thoughts on “Poem: Last Night, Chronicles Of An Alcoholic (A, B, C)

Add yours

  1. Hmm… I read an re-read this and still ruminating on the words just to understand the clear message. Straight from the heart piece. So,lovely

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