Tick tock, rise and shine, shake the whiskey from your eyes.
Close your mind and count to five, scream yoursELF A LULLABY.

My fear induced sweat
Smells like malt liquor.
I hide in something sickly sweet
I got from Smile Gas.
It makes sense.
I rinse away
the evil I feel.
The world poured so much in.
It pours,
so I have to.

The liquor wafted its way
scorching the dimly lit path.
His hot and heavy breath pounced
on the back of my neck,
burning worse than his throat as he
tossed back one shot after the other.

I am scared, but I remain calm.
I do not want him to have the satisfaction
that men like him get from a hunt.
I wonder if he can sense my hesitance,
or if he is so utterly intoxicated.
the kind of intoxication that excuses such behavior.

fingers flirt with the flames
of a feeling I don’t understand.
lighter fluid coats my hand and
I don’t bother to wash it off.
tears begin when my parents yell
because twenty years of
abuse, alcohol, and neglected anxiety
takes its toll on the adult mind.
‘i’m over it,’ i say as i drink
my second beer of the day
at nine in the morning.
i light a cigarette and
catch on fire and hope
my parents forgive me enough
to realize not everything is my fault.

I left Jim at Two Amigos
Sitting at the bar,
Stick-handling a coaster.
He was a hockey star,
Showed it when he smiled.

He tells stories
Of blood freezing on ice,
Jersey pulls and sweat,
Body checks and corners.
He circles the Zamboni,
On memory's icy mirror.
The crowds cheer Jim
To get off the ice,
Let the game begin.
He speeds his machine
To the far end doors,
Vanishing down the tunnel.

He's just ordered a double boiler-maker,
Stirs his whiskey with a swizzle-stick,
And slaps back another shot.

I'm surrounded by pieces of myself
Shards of glass so sharp it hurts
The memories that you ruined
The childhood you dictated
The love that was  lost

I cannot repair what you broke
I cannot mend what is already bent out of shape
I cannot forget the memories etched on my skin

When glass breaks
It cannot be put back together
No matter the amount of glue or tape
Or how many times you've begged for my forgiveness

I take out a broom
I sweep up the pieces
I throw them away
Not for you
But for myself

I am building homes on the shorelines in hourglasses
hoping that this time it will last.
It has been over 18 months
But I know it won't last.
I will relapse eventually
Spectacularly

And pitifully.
Because one year not drinking is like seven to an alcoholic
And I’m still ageing in years of the dog that bit me and will never let me go.

Wanna talk about magic tricks?
It's only sober I saw how much I was disappearing drinking,

So lets call this bullet caught a bullet dodged.
This spell casts me in a bad light
That i can't get my shadow out of
call me Houdini because I'm still looking for  escapes.
You will notice
There is nothing up my sleeves but attempts
so don’t tempt me,
because I haven’t been sleeping too good
and I ain’t awake any better.

For all this freedom,
sometimes I want to take the lockpicks I kept behind my teeth and close shut the world back up over my head again,
Spend a spell or two inside the prisons i built myself again,
Fall back into sunset habits again,
Rather than face the sunrise clear headed
Knowing that this
This is as good as i'm ever gonna feel.

I am sick of being cured because this is no antidote.
No one is afraid of the dark when the lights are on

There’s a morning chorus still singing the burden of nausea
And dropped  by the graceless hands of fate
Another Day breaks.
But for all the fragile homes I built myself in the name of safety
I have no time for walls right now.
I know I built a life of alcohol and I
But we strayed together for all the wrong reasons
And hedonism is not a coping mechanism
And I’ll always remember how this works
in yesterdays that escape me
and excuses that made me
With fearful nights where I was relapse ready
and days like today
Where my resolve is whiskey **** soft like a thrift store sweater
I tell myself tomorrow is just one more day to get to the end of.

Addiction is any port in a storm,
though i’m weighed down by the seas I swallow to keep me steady
You can’t call call me three sheets to the wind anymore
cos i’m tying hope to anchors
Onto these glass kept ships that I used to sink myself in.
There are no answers in a bottle no matter how often you ask it
And i'll keep asking.
Hold me like a funeral
Cos i am not strong.
Hold me like your breath,
Cos technically theres a lifetime supply of it
Now matter how deep you go.

I am 100 years of hurricanes

I have fought avalanches and won

I am a monument to a disaster that never happened

I have been shaken in exact sync with whatever earthquake
You tell me I should not be walking with
You ask me how I survived this well who the **** said I did?

Am i as much a symptom of the world as I am sick of it?
I never figured out the trick behind this
I never knew what proof I had of this
Just knew that it was always too much too often for too long.
Just knew that it was always too much too often for too long.
Just knew that one way or another this will be the death of me.

I know where this journey takes me, and what it takes from me
So when asked for directions I say:
“To hell with us there is no us!
No you and I to talk of.
You were only ever a wrong road
and I am headed due north of this rock bottom.”

I'll be the tornado if you can find my ruby red shoes to be twelve stepping in.
This close to failure I wear seven league boots
And I know the exact route of just a few moments longer.

I’ll let the seasons decide this one
(Let them change me like I  didnt)
Keep whiskey and knives away from me;
I got this achilles throat from trying to swallow the styx.

And I'm not scared of mortality’s uncertainty any more;
My Haros hand is sure.
Though I didnt have any doubts drunk
I'm sure
I was never Sam when i wasn't sober.

Once a lover said to me “I’d like to pick your brain,”
“You’re a beauty darling, but I think you’re quite insane.”
I did not doubt a word he said so I opened up my mind
I think he got a little scared when he realized what he’d find.
Empty bourbon bottles, littered in my head
Crumpled up old ***** notes, wishing I was dead.
Then one of the voices that once belonged only to me
Snuck into his consciousness out of curiosity
It whispered scary sayings right into his ear
He clutched my hand tightly, said “Never leave me, dear.”
I looked into terrified eyes with sincere empathy
But felt nothing but relief that the terror had left me.
Before it could crawl back to me I shut my mind quickly,
I will be ****** if I’m the one living life sickly.

I must have made a pact
with my eyes during the little rest I get
that forever tired is the new black
and I must wing it
every single night I stay up
until I'm sick of the sweetness
from the bulleit
seeping into my skin
I think of them and what's next
and never send that text.
I close my eyes and let it be
and hope tomorrow will let me sleep.