I have become the friend that my parents used to tell me to stay away from.
My last name is "bad influence", with a hyphen.

With a lit cigarette in one hand and a bottle of ***** in the other one I run down the street,
bare feet,
laughing.

I curse the moment when I sober up,
knowing full well that my intoxication was just a weak attempt on my side to make myself feel something.

Your mother said that I was a bad influence on you.
But I have to wonder...
Am I really that bad?