I was a ****** to the taste of alcohol for 18 years until the day I lost it to you My first drink was a mix between reality and denial This glass consumed the toxins from this relationship that I fell addictive too I guess that makes you a double shot of *** No, I guess that makes you alcohol poisoning Because it felt as though you broke into my liquor cabinet and wrote your name on each bottle Just to remind me why I am drinking in the first place You shattered those empty bottles against my heart until I bled our memories I guess that was your way of breaking the bad news You used each shard to pierce my ribs Becuase you never wanted to see us as one Each shot of Tequila reminds me just how our relationship tasted Sweet when drunk, but bitter when sober Your name ran marathons down my esophagus anytime I found myself swallowing the sharp cracks and dents from this Crown A puddle of Crown sat stagnant at the bottom of my stomach Normally, Brown is the only thing that sparks a fire in my throat But your attitude was more flammable than a full bottle of Everclear And not even Bacardi 151 burns as bad as the feeling you left on my lips I yearned for the nights where it was just me, you, and Hennessey But now I spend my 2 am nights in the deepest of conversation with Jim and Jack But each sip brings me closer to the bottom Reminding me how we hit rock bottom We hit rock bottom when you drove this relationship straight into a brick wall You allowed our love to ride in the passenger unbuckled So I guess that makes you a murderer Because you killed everything we had And now that youβre gone I subconsciously drink slowly I drive slow Hoping reality won't hit me so hard I was hoping to eventually find you when I swallowed the last drop Searching for the paradise I tried to give us while downing this Long Island But instead I was brought back to the realization that you and alcohol go hand and hand Both giving me the best feeling one night Then leaving me numb With the same emptiness I felt before I picked up this bottle And the last thing I want Is to wake up tomorrow morning With the remnants of your taste still sitting on the tip of my tongue You are my hangover