A Sober Christmas Homecoming

I used to hide behind the shadows. Skipping holidays at home.

Too ashamed for conversation. Felt the guilt down to my bones.

Every smile I tried to offer was a mask I couldn't keep. Afraid they'd see

the broken pieces underneath. But now I'm driving through the snowfall.

Hands are steady, heart is clean. Haven't felt this kind of freedom since the kid

I used to be. Haven't seen my grandma's laughter since before the

downward slide. But this year she'll see the light back in my

eyes. And I don't know what tomorrow brings. But today I'm