Whiskey lets me feel it how it isn’t; I’m not strong enough straight

It clouds the damage, and takes you to an alternate reality

The cost of this relief is additional damage…

When you return to ‘what is’

Drinking, lying, laughing,

Drinking some more,

And then it happens…

My dammed mind collapses,

Releasing a flood of memories

I struggle to understand why the happy ones, make me feel so sad

Walking home, cold, bleak, raining, I’m so alone

Running now, but the memories are following

They win, and I visit my mind

The pain of absence is so exquisite

I try to remember the bad times

The good ones are too painful

But it was all good…

Resigned to suffer the loss

Funny, the pain is the same in either reality