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What I Meant to Say

By Poet On Standby   

My hands are clumsy, my mood is a fog,
my mind is an old-growth forest
and every thought is an arsonist.
What I meant to say





?. . . is that I’m an alcoholic.

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This Poems Story

This poem was used to help me process the experience of accepting I was an alcoholic who needed help and telling other people about it.



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