The calm before the storm,
happens before I transform.
This is not ordinary weather we've experienced,
a sandstorm of emotions for the inexperienced.
The easiest way to become numb comes from liquid poison.

Like a moth drawn to its death,
I flock to the bottle without taking a breath.
It's so easy to drown under the pressures of life,
avoiding the strife.
My will died some time ago.

One with my thoughts,
I take shots.
When I wake up did it fix anything?
In love with every last drop and the sting.
**Then the shame of my past reminds me of the great battle ahead.