Drinking
As my lips adhere to another tin,
I forget the morals buried deep within.
Drinking doesn’t relieve my stress —
It turns my brain to an emotional mess.
Aiming for more, but settling for less,
I mutter those fateful words —
“I’m never drinking again…”
Then repeat the process.
Head thick as fog,
Another day — no progress.
Body starts to wither,
Mind begins to regress.
I mutter those fateful words —
“I’m never drinking again…”
Then repeat the process.
But every tin’s a coffin,
Every swallow, a nail;
Each oath I spit
Already set to fail.
The walls close in —
The bottle’s my cell;
Each sip drags me deeper
Into my personal hell.
And when they find me,
Face down in the sink —
Blood in my vomit,
Breath stinking of drink —
Don’t call it an accident,
Don’t soften the lie…
The truth is,
I’ve been killing myself
One can at a time.
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