I thought you were my medicine but too much medicine can make you even more sick so I changed and said you were my bandage but bandages can be wrapped too tightly and cause further damage to the simplest of wounds. I wish I could come to my senses and admit that you are neither my medicine nor my bandage; you are my sickness and you are the slash across my ******* wrist that is leaking all of this blood and leaving me helpless and dangerously close to death. You are the poison that burns my throat and is slowing killing me and I never wanted to admit to my drinking problem but I'm soon to be six feet under and I don't even know if I want to cry out for help or not anymore.