t w e n t y - one.
the age that makes addiction and suicide legal.
i’ve been awaiting my turn.
we all know how bad alcohol can burn.
the warmth and comfort that it brings;
bleak blankets covering every edge of void;
condemned without soft spoken words; never look forward or backward,
only upward, to find heaven you must first acknowledge that you’re backing yourself into hell.
even the small steps are accompanied by loud noises that silenced the leaps of grievance and gratitude.
swallowed by the inevitable, comes misplacing things; emotions, loyalty, sobriety or even a decade.
sip by sip, I insist to continue, so sure that freedom will knock on my door tomorrow, although tomorrow was yesterday.
use me, abuse me, but just set me free.
I must admit, I have an addiction that haunts me.
“Run away”
hide-n-seek, drunken in my own weight, those many times i’ve seen the white light waving from over the peak; be my peace.
this isn’t luck, put the bottle down, cause I promise.. you take another sip, you’ll drown.
Take another shot.
