With whom

When I was bulimic

I could not hold down words

when I was an alcoholic

I drank standing by the stainless steel sink

pretending it was cough syrup

when I was an addict

blue pills became my muse

when I was a smoker

I pulled blue smoke into my lungs

spoke in hacking tongues

when I was starving

I pressed against you until struck back

vanquishing my urge with your violence

bending dominion, sating hunger

a lion taking his share, leaving bones

to gnaw through wrong moments

when I was empty I found nowhere to fill myself

though I tried sex, drugs and other recreation

drizzling against fastened door in outline of shame

when I was used

I let myself become a purse with an open mouth

when I was alive I did not feel alive

when I was dying I knew

how much time I had wasted

thinking of when

rather than why

and with whom