It starts as a way to forget,
No not to forget, just numb.
It starts as a way to numb,
The splintered glass deep inside my chest

The first few drinks bring peace
No they feign it, illusions
As it poisons my body and mind
The whiskey coils around my heart

As it constricts I feel the pain
And anger I tried to escape.
I pour another glass hoping
For the illusion to persist.

Desperate now I put the bottle to my lips
And as the liqueur flows into my blood
The words flow from me into my pen
Expelling the pain, expelling the cardio-wounds

I trade pain for poison
The bottle's dry
I lay my head down ease myself back
And wonder if I wrote this poem or if it belongs to J. W. Black