I don't remember half the **** i said,
nor do i remember half the **** i did.

But i do remember the only way i could even function without you.

One beer in one hand and a shot in the other
was the only way to truly numb the pain.
All of that just to be able to get out of bed
after sleeping for 20-30 minutes a night,
without being soaked and shaking in desperation that is.

I do remember smiling, singing, and dancing during the day,
until the night stole my happiness away;
with a piousness liquid and drugs
i was aware/unaware i had par taken in.

I remember my motto became "Oh well." and "Who cares."

I don't remember the pain in your eyes when i'd walk away
leaving a foul stench behind me.

My mind had taken control
while my addition had swallowed me whole.  

I don't even remember caring, if i could help it.
I left the few small pieces of my heart and soul in you safe warm home.

I do however remember almost dying in detox.
I will never forget the violent shakes, ***** and heaves, barely being able to breathe for hours on end;
being so close to death i could taste the dark dryness.
The utter hopelessness had taken me to the point that i started praying to a god I had no belief in
to end it all.
Broken beyond repair as i pulled out my hair,
hollow screams escaped into something less than the molecules in the air.

Yet here i sit today, still ******* in tobacco smoke
waiting, always waiting.
But what exactly am i waiting for?
For this incurable disease to take control once more?
I have never been know for letting myself be happy for too long.

Or is this really my first real chance at a fresh start with a mature mind?  

Time will tell with many known/unknown colors, I suppose.