I sometimes wonder if I have a problem.
From drinking in bars, to ***** basements.
To late night crashes with beings.
I couldn't care about even if I wanted to.
Because all I ever wanted was you.
And every time my lip touches that cold glass.
I think of your cold skin.
Because you chose to stop being.
You let your demon's take you from within.
In that moment you were no longer being.
You stopped being.
And I stopped being.
Who I wanted to be
And now I am just one of those troubled souls.
Replacing the taste of you
With something new.
The burn of whisky.
The smell of the alcohol on my breath.
My body screams, "STOP!"
But my mind says,"what for...?"
So here I am.
Stuck in this cold cell.
Dealing with this burning hell.
Remind me of the things we were.
And the love you took away.
So this drink is for you, my love.
Let it burn my throat.
So no one can hear my screams.
And let it warm my insides.
So I can pretend I'm me.