In "I learned how to love from Heroin" a young boy confronts the seductive pull of addiction, while navigating love in a coming of age collection. Through poignant poems, he explores his tumultuous romance with a beautiful yet dangerous muse that embodies both love & hate. From a young age, he navigates a landscape where ecstasy & agony intertwine, revealing how chaos becomes a balm for his wounds. This collection offers a raw look at the complexities of addiction & the search for redemption, inviting readers on a haunting journey of confessions & pleas for understanding in the shadows of desire.
In "I learned how to love from Heroin" a young boy confronts the seductive pull of addiction, while navigating love in a coming of age collection. Through poignant poems, he explores his tumultuous romance with a beautiful yet dangerous muse that embodies both love & hate. From a young age, he navigates a landscape where ecstasy & agony intertwine, revealing how chaos becomes a balm for his wounds. This collection offers a raw look at the complexities of addiction & the search for redemption, inviting readers on a haunting journey of confessions & pleas for understanding in the shadows of desire.
& I know that sounds crazy/ but at one point/ I'd have encouraged you to lock up your heirlooms/ I was smitten/ by a cougar that was slowly encircling me/ & I couldn't tell if she was going to caress me/ or kill me/ & frankly I didn't care/ I would have pickpocketed God himself/ to show this beautiful woman her value/ I was 17 / when I watched hate(love) dance across my arms/ the battlefield/ I squinted/ my eyes versus the sun/ through fog from a war I waged with no casualties at face value/ & then I saw Her/ a shadow riding under the sunset like Aphrodite herself/ had descended from the heavens/ I watched her draw her sword/ she met hate(love) at the crook of my elbow & as she sliced down her enemies I saw her soul/ & I knew we'd love(hate)J I didn't know we'd walk the same steps/ breathe the same breath/ trace the same chills/ across the same arms/ through trails in mountains that we were never even meant to climb/ I used chaos/ as band-aids over bullet holes/ but arteries cannot be tethered by lust/ & love dodges the lips of a drunk son stumbling silently
Thank you to Alex Schotten and Reedsy Discovery for the Advanced Reader Copy of this title. What now follows is my thoughts of the book.
I will start by saying I have never read anything quite like this book before. The structure was novel to me. At first, we come to three pages of poetry where the lines are only broken by a forward slash. In the beginning I found this cumbersome and distracting. However, if you have patience, the technique was a great device for slowing the reader down. Each of the pages were headed by a line in larger font. I would not call this a title, more a prelude to the remainder of the page, or an emphasis within the three pages, you decide! I found that overall, you could just read the text, however, there were many points where you could place the ‘emphasis’ line before each forward slash which gave the poetry a whole new feel to it.
The book is divided into a prologue, followed by five sections: Trauma, Bonded, Her, No Contact, and Healing.
After reading several pages of the ‘Trauma’ section, I found myself thinking that this is not a series of poems but one continuous epic poem that writhers and slithers, altering in rhythm and shedding its skin like a snake to take on a fresh look and sound. This appears to be confirmed by the line, this manuscript is a monologue; on how to talk to yourself.’
I found it interesting that the author wrote several letters to ‘God, to mom, but not dad.’ I also spent time dwelling on the second guessing the author wrote into their poetry, e.g., ‘that’s what I was supposed to do/ (I think)/that’s what I was supposed to believe/ (I think).’ It gave the impression that the poetry was part of their therapy journey where they are answering unspoken questions and toying with the correct response they want to give. Whilst some of the poetry reads like the author is high, in terms of what they are remembering/experiencing, the use of language is well articulated and vivid concepts are used to define points that suggest that the author is fully in control of their faculties. At one point, the author talks of oneself needs to cut the brakes, or find a runaway ramp, but he has found streetlights suffice. I think the message is that you are going to keep going with a bad habit until you fall off the edge or crash and burn.
I am not familiar with hardcore drug use/misuse, so some of the overwhelming feelings went over my head. However, the pages were doused in vulnerability, guilt, queries, yearning, trauma, pain, escapism, and emotions, lots of emotions. This book would potentially appeal to psychologists, counsellors, loved ones of those struggling with substance misuse, literary students who are looking for themed poetry, as well as lovers of free form poems. It is a book that takes the reader on a weird little trip down a rabbit hole. If you can stomach heavy content material, this is a book to enjoy slowly and thoughtfully.