I can feel them itching away at my insides.

They want me to take a shot.
They want me to take the relief of a hit.
"Home is where the drink is" they tell me.

Their judgement is laid before me.
They stand as my accusers.
I stand as the accused.

"We'll do it this way" they say.

"No, it ends now, we'll do it my way" I reply.

"We were always doing it your way".

A sound. A voice. Had it been me all along?
Oh no, had I lead myself astray this whole time?

As a carriage follows its horse, so does a mind follow its thoughts.

It's time to get these thoughts in order.