breathe in deep,
{deep breaths will help you cope}
chew gum,
a diet coke and a cigarette in the afternoon,
the carbonation burns your throat
{thank god}
another cigarette after work,
another cup of coffee on the road
{black, with two sugars}
park the car,
go inside,
do laundry,
do the dishes,
do something
{distraction is key}
look in the mirror,
tousle your hair,
you look
{normal?}
there are no external warning signs,
{not that you've exhibited, at least}
this deception you're living every day,
has become the norm for you
{who am i?}
{but he doesn't look like an alcoholic}
silent pain,
no one can hear your cries for help.
{are you, perhaps, too prideful to look like an alcoholic?}
you still wake up for work,
eat breakfast,
go to church,
but your faith is no longer in God,
the blood of your God represented in a chalice of wine,
passed through the hands of the faithful followers,
{moderation is key, isn't that what they told you?}
pass the cup back to the holy man before he sees
the look in your eyes,
begging for more,
{one more drink}
{please}
it only matters if you show the warning signs,
as if this addiction
{dare i say, disease?}
could fit into a pamphlet,
neatly folded,
creased edges,
glossy photographs,
all smiles,
1-800 number in the big font
{this is your life, and it fits on a single sheet of paper}
{no one can help you but yourself, and you're not doing so well}
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 4:11 PM UTC
breathe in deep,
{deep breaths will help you cope}
chew gum,
a diet coke and a cigarette in the afternoon,
the carbonation burns your throat
{thank god}
another cigarette after work,
another cup of coffee on the road
{black, with two sugars}
park the car,
go inside,
do laundry,
do the dishes,
do something
{distraction is key}
look in the mirror,
tousle your hair,
you look
{normal?}
there are no external warning signs,
{not that you've exhibited, at least}
this deception you're living every day,
has become the norm for you
{who am i?}
{but he doesn't look like an alcoholic}
silent pain,
no one can hear your cries for help.
{are you, perhaps, too prideful to look like an alcoholic?}
you still wake up for work,
eat breakfast,
go to church,
but your faith is no longer in God,
the blood of your God represented in a chalice of wine,
passed through the hands of the faithful followers,
{moderation is key, isn't that what they told you?}
pass the cup back to the holy man before he sees
the look in your eyes,
begging for more,
{one more drink}
{please}
it only matters if you show the warning signs,
as if this addiction
{dare i say, disease?}
could fit into a pamphlet,
neatly folded,
creased edges,
glossy photographs,
all smiles,
1-800 number in the big font
{this is your life, and it fits on a single sheet of paper}
{no one can help you but yourself, and you're not doing so well}
