I love you
But yet I hate you
You are the hope of my future
You were my guidance in my past
My father despised you
But my mother adored you
You were her will to live
You were a constant guest in our home
You were the scent my mother wore daily
She neglected me for the happiness of you
She confided in you
But your greed took her away
After all the hurt and pain you caused
I welcomed you back into my life
But now you are my foundation
I finally see what my mother saw in you
You helped her cope with her wounds
Even though you helped cause them
My family doesn’t understand you
And honestly nor do I
You’ve ruined my past
And I have acknowledged
That you have ruined my future
You are the end of my tunnel
My Whiskey Bottle

-LaToya Martin

I have never been considered
a city, or country boy.
More a godless jesus of suburbia
with better intentions
than the next guy.

But recently
my eyes have been opened
to a different way of living
where the country songs
all hit home.

A life of community,
honesty, and substance.
Where a stranger wont feel alone,
but like family, in a beer and a half.
and the warmth in my chest
is not only the whiskey,
or the bonfire.
It's a girl's smile,
the smell of barbeque,
diesel, or the rain in the woods.
Its the sound of a truck,
a guitar, boots on dirt,
the rock and roll.
Its feeling alive.

Where hard work pays,
and southern hospitality
reigns.
Where the rolling hills,
fields, forests,
and grand skies leave you
with no words

It's freedom.

I get it now.

I remember your words
flowing from your lips
like liquid fire
warming my tired bones.

Oh, what is sober
to swaying hips
that swirl like jack
in a clear glass?

Drink my soul dry
like numbing whiskey
teasing the tongue
the way you tease my thoughts.

I take in every drop
of you
like the addict
I am.

I have been craving for whiskey
for the comfort it gives me,
when all that lingers was your warmth
that went too fast like February.

Hand me a glass of whiskey
as quick as you can.
Catch me on the last train,
let’s escape the town while we can.

Oh, I guess I had too much whiskey
that I forget I am running away alone.
Just a little taste of whiskey,
sober enough to remember
to leave the things I don’t own.

But life,
it’s too short, too fast
to get drowned in whiskey.
And life,
it’s too playful, too painful
to have let me love,
but never experience you.