I have a demon My demon is the bottle. I spend more time looking down the neck of a bottle than I do anything else. My time is not well spent. I have had multiple people tell me i have a Drinking Problem Myself I think the drinking is not the problem, I think the taste of cold bourbon on a summer night is better than anything, My body tells me that itβs good for me. It welcomes the taste as if its a best friend. My best friends all left me when she did. I guess the only thing that stayed is my Drinking Problem
So you tell me, Is my drinking a problem? Or is it the people that left. Is it the taste of the sweet bourbon on that summer night? Or is it the people that push and shove me. Is it the fact that my best friend is a bottle? Or is it the fact that I'm all alone.