There wasn't much left to do but drink the night away; just me and this bottle of ***
I seemed to have blurred the lines from being 18 and happy to 22 and ready to drink myself to death.
I am not sure how I got here, maybe years of hiding sadness, who knows really?
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
There wasn't much left to do but drink the night away; just me and this bottle of ***
I seemed to have blurred the lines from being 18 and happy to 22 and ready to drink myself to death.
I am not sure how I got here, maybe years of hiding sadness, who knows really?
Request permission to use this poem