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Written for an open mic at a drug and alcohol recovery charity.

I sit behind folded knees
watching you sip away pain
from fat bellied bottles of cider
charging yourself with false strength.

I am driftwood crashing in your storm,
I hold on tight.

With help you calm your waters
but you emerge your toxic cocoon
with a heart swollen with guilt
fragile yet strong.

18 years stare back at those moments
18 years of sobriety and strength
Every second a victory
And as a mother still I watch you
As you tuck your soul into your pocket.
And I feel pride.