Dryer Lint

I’m driving so dizzy that my tears circle my cheek
Before falling to my tense thigh.

The gas petal finds herself released because all
My foot wants to do is darkly tango with the break petal.

I dig deeply through my jacket pockets in order to find a sign of my former life.
All I find is dryer lint (3 months old)-
A little messy piece of a job not-so well done reminding me of
How imperfect my actions can be.

I roll down the window-
Jerking my shoulder in a circular motion hard so that fresh air
Can quickly fill my musty car.

A midnight breeze captures the lint and carries
It to a distant blade of deep green grass where it rests alone.

My former life was:
Before noticing every bottle in every room
Before a good day could turn so badly, so quickly
Before drinking became drugging
Before I didn't know how to handle myself.
My former life was
Before a little piece of dryer lint.

My stomach is tightening with
"Will it be okay?"s and "How did I get here?"s.
The physical need for that amber liquid is gone-
Went away before I really knew what it was.
Now the memories are left to make me feel
Wrong.

I turn on the caution lights.
Parked on the side of the street,
I let my lungs catch up with my quickly beating heart.

An image takes over my mind's eye:
My hand at 7am pouring a glass of rum
My hand at 3pm pouring a glass of vodka
My hand at 7pm pouring a glass of whatever mix I could think of
My 8th grade self too afraid to look in the mirror and see red checks mix with shadowy tears.

I started young and ended shortly after.
I still need help like it's the first night home alone with the cabinet unlocked.

Progress never feels evident.
And driving while crying isn’t as safe as I had hoped.