my father loves the taste of bourbon

I do not know why
I am too afraid to ask

if it is because the burn it leaves in the back of his throat
and the pit of his stomach
is sweeter than that of his broken body

or if it is because after seven glasses
he forgets his middle name or that
his body is even broken at all

I do not know
I am too afraid to ask

if he is addicted to the alcohol
or just being able to move without wanting to scream in pain

the only nights my father sleeps
are those when he is too intoxicated to even stand

I do not know if he even likes the way it tastes
or if it’s just familiar now but

I have never been more scared than watching my father
stagger up the stairs to our door
and throw himself heavy onto the couch

thinking
what if this time he doesn’t wake up