Woke up
cuddling a bottle
it was no longer subtle

My love for this potation
has become an addiction
and no longer a mental transition

Body shaking
asking for more
sobriety scared me
it might be a bore  

Woke up
cuddling a bottle
.... no more
"at least I'll remember
this one" she says

I've tried to drink you away.

It only made me miss you more..

I've tried to smoke you away.

It only made my lungs burn along with my heart.

No drugs can make me forget you.

The hope for the day you'd change your mind is fading..

Days of silence go by.

You will never be mine, will you?

Empty cups
of poison
failed to fill
the
bottomless
pit
that keeps
getting eroded
drink
after
drink

I can't believe it
Five seconds I was sober
Due to Evan

Worst drink
Best friend
Empty vase

Lying to my face
Preaching happy thoughts
Corrupting fables and dreams

Bourbon is fine
William not
Confusion without show

Conclusion too far away
Drifting in a sea
That I can't reach

Do you ever feel confused?
Ever feel like you just don’t know?
Ever ask yourself if what your doing is right or wrong?

Well I know how you feel

Sometimes I wonder:
I want to be a stupid,
I want to get drunk,
I want to get high,
I want to make bad choices
But I don’t know how

They say it builds character
But they also say it will hurt you

I don’t want to be miss goodie-two-shoes

I just don’t know

All I do know is
That I’m confused

Stop and think…
   About the need to drink

Right now…
   It depends on how low
     You want to sink

Maybe it’s not a problem
   Just yet…

It could easily
  Take control
     Blacken your soul

Stop now…
   Before it takes its toll

Just remember…

   In order to win
      In order to stop
         You need not begin

We find it in the bottom of a cup
In a wine glass or beer mug
Imbibing all manner of spirits
Until the blackness takes hold.

Or in a person who eases our spirit
A phone call, a message.
Acknowledging our existence
And letting us know we’re loved

Some people find it in lines on a mirror
Or in a needle that leaves scars
It’s smoked off of a spoon
Or rolled in some paper

Other people cut, pain to ease pain
Slicing away bits of anxiety and flesh
Leaving thin long reminders of
Feelings best forgotten

Some find it in poetry, vomiting feelings
Onto a pristine white page until
It’s full and stained in emotion  
An artwork of agony

A few seek moments alone to
Close their eyes and meditate.
Counting breaths and clearing imagination
Getting lost in the maze of their minds

Some brave individuals
Listen to blues and sorrow
Their anxieties leaking from their eyes
And out of their noses.

Me. Maybe I do them all
Maybe I don’t.

He drank the wine
From the vine
Deep rooted
Beyond his border
Where the sun shined
warmth by design
Which bloomed sweet fruit
He stole from another