In life I have found that
Whiskey sours and old fashioneds
Will always be my greatest vice
As well as my closest confidant
The glass hits my lips
And within the next ten minutes
I am no longer compelled
To pick my cuticles
I no longer feel the wrath
Of anxiety’s unseen brush burn
Or depression’s mighty choke hold
For once, I can breathe easy
Every fleeting thought of total apprehension
Is replaced by feelings of contentment and bliss
But soon, my eyes become glassy
While my body grows weary
And I descend into a deep slumber
Slowly sinking into the barstool
With my head on the counter
In a blue collar town
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 9:06 AM UTC
In life I have found that
Whiskey sours and old fashioneds
Will always be my greatest vice
As well as my closest confidant
The glass hits my lips
And within the next ten minutes
I am no longer compelled
To pick my cuticles
I no longer feel the wrath
Of anxiety’s unseen brush burn
Or depression’s mighty choke hold
For once, I can breathe easy
Every fleeting thought of total apprehension
Is replaced by feelings of contentment and bliss
But soon, my eyes become glassy
While my body grows weary
And I descend into a deep slumber
Slowly sinking into the barstool
With my head on the counter
In a blue collar town