I was a ****** to the taste of alcohol for 18 years until the day I lost it to you
My first drink was a mix between reality and denial
This glass consumed the toxins from this relationship that I fell addictive too
I guess that makes you a double shot of ***
No, I guess that makes you alcohol poisoning
Because it felt as though you broke into my liquor cabinet and wrote your name on each bottle
Just to remind me why I am drinking in the first place
You shattered those empty bottles against my heart until I bled our memories
I guess that was your way of breaking the bad news
You used each shard to pierce my ribs
Becuase you never wanted to see us as one
Each shot of Tequila reminds me just how our relationship tasted
Sweet when drunk, but bitter when sober
Your name ran marathons down my esophagus anytime I found myself swallowing the sharp cracks and dents from this Crown
A puddle of Crown sat stagnant at the bottom of my stomach
Normally, Brown is the only thing that sparks a fire in my throat
But your attitude was more flammable than a full bottle of Everclear
And not even Bacardi 151 burns as bad as the feeling you left on my lips
I yearned for the nights where it was just me, you, and Hennessey
But now I spend my 2 am nights in the deepest of conversation with Jim and Jack
But each sip brings me closer to the bottom
Reminding me how we hit rock bottom
We hit rock bottom when you drove this relationship straight into a brick wall
You allowed our love to ride in the passenger unbuckled
So I guess that makes you a murderer
Because you killed everything we had
And now that you’re gone I subconsciously drink slowly
I drive slow
Hoping reality won't hit me so hard
I was hoping to eventually find you when I swallowed the last drop
Searching for the paradise I tried to give us while downing this Long Island
But instead I was brought back to the realization that you and alcohol go hand and hand
Both giving me the best feeling one night
Then leaving me numb
With the same emptiness I felt before I picked up this bottle
And the last thing I want
Is to wake up tomorrow morning
With the remnants of your taste still sitting on the tip of my tongue
You are my hangover