And quite frankly
I don't need God
Two wires to my ears, and a glass of whisky
Is plenty enough to guide me through the fog.

Yet.. Sometimes..
Sir Jameson won't drown out..
The tingle of lavender that still tickles my nose
Or the scent of the sheets, or the rain on the streets.

And sometimes..
Mr. Daniels won't blind me from..
The traps
It no longer soothe..
How her lips refused to move.