Beer for breakfast
Liquor for lunch
Drunk by dinner
Out by 1

touch of amber in his morning cup,
espy to the mug neighbouring

caffeine in the burning steam,
bourbon in bubbles

glazed views,
fake passion

a kiss of liquor

Why am I still awake
I sit here waiting
I know what will help
Ah yes that's better

The haunting voices
The painful memories
I drown them out
With every drink I down

And yet every time
I seem to forget
The alcohol never kills them
Only makes me reminisce

Because rather than forget
It does quite the opposite
I dream of the past
And escape from the present

Intoxicate me
No, not with kind words and affections
I know I’m not allowed such comforts

Just fill me with poisons
Drink until I can’t feel anymore
Until all that’s left
Are giggles and a few slow words
Until my body is so thoroughly flushed with it
Vision, arms, legs, lips
They all begin to fail
Full of a dimmed sensation of bliss
A warm, peaceful fog
Happy and a bit mad
Dazed and compromised
But no concerns to speak of

It’s not enough
You need to keep drinking
You can stop when it’s all gone
Stop when you can’t see straight
Keep ******* drinking
You worthless *****
Don’t listen to your body
Just drink
You’re not drunk enough

The fact was, I didn’t want to because I was afraid of addiction.

But then I had this thought—
1. if you do it right, it’ll only be once so you won’t have to worry about that.

That’s how it all starts, right?

2. Just this once,
you swear it to yourself,
only one time.


Except we all know it’s never just once.


3. You don’t even want to, but at this point it’s become more sort of a, “Why not?”.

4. Staggered footsteps and a headache later, you forget your feelings.
Regret doesn’t matter when you’re too busy giggling at the spinning ceiling about nothing.


5. But then you crash.

And you’re tired.
You’re so ******* tired.


6. Rinse and repeat.

In life I have found that
Whiskey sours and old fashioneds
Will always be my greatest vice
As well as my closest confidant

The glass hits my lips
And within the next ten minutes
I am no longer compelled
To pick my cuticles

I no longer feel the wrath
Of anxiety’s unseen brush burn
Or depression’s mighty choke hold
For once, I can breathe easy

Every fleeting thought of total apprehension
Is replaced by feelings of contentment and bliss
But soon, my eyes become glassy
While my body grows weary

And I descend into a deep slumber
Slowly sinking into the barstool
With my head on the counter
In a blue collar town