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Array
(
[sid] => 165194
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Chantelle is an Angel
[time] => 2011-03-09 17:08:16
[hometext] => God is good
[bodytext] => Church will bring me closer to god,” but when the service ends “I don’t have the time” for that woman on the steps asking for money to buy a Honey-bun. Stranger walks by seeking shelter from the rain, church is closed, says she has an apple, “would you like it?” Answer is yes, reflex is hand-to-mouth, hat is labeled satisfaction; irony would have it slanted Naw, since you’re white they’ll let you in,” she mocks but white girl prefers exposure to the elements over racism. Telly meets Sarah, Sarah meets Telly, the Spirit unites them. Eyes bright from dope, she scratches tracks on arm while saying “Heron be the devil.” Less than a year ago “she” would’ve been “both,” but recovery happens Less than 3 months ago, “she” would’ve been “neither,” but relapse happens Each knows joy and pain, heaven and hell, faith and fear. I’m going to an N.A. meeting, if you want help you’ll find it there.” Says she’s ready to get clean, but mind disagrees with heart and demands quarters from pedestrians A good heart is easily overtaken by addiction’s ugly mask. Nonetheless, they walk away in stride with 3 hours ‘til the meeting. A promise is made, that everything will be okay, I’ll be with you. Now this was God speaking through the lips of a believer. Gifts are meant to be shared, lest we lose them. Even the sweetness of the sugar-coated beignet wasn’t sweet enough for this honey-bun lover. Life and love was what she wanted most, even more than the poison her body craved. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 445 [topic] => 66 [informant] => cheshire [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => drugabuse )
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