literature

Just one more

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Literature Text

There you went picking up that bottle again. The scent of hard whiskey will stain your breath through this night.
By-and-by hoping to drown your sorrows you make new ones. The dealing with stress and coping with reality you figure will be solved with just one swig. That swig soon turned into one drink, two drinks, three drinks. I'm sure these gulps satisfy you.
Only for a moment
You feel the buzz of the magic that is whiskey. Unfortunately, that buzz hasn't covered up the stress and scars.
Reach for the ice box.
Reach for the bottle
Pour.
Repeat.
The scent of hard whiskey has drowned your breath and your sense of reality.
You feel happy.
You go on doing your own thing. You feel no restrictions. Life is bliss. What was I so sad about? Hmph, not this whiskey.
Someone approaches and you snap.
Why? Because they reminded you of your problems.
You yell.
You slur your words into an unknown string of goopy gibberish. You hope they feel the venom of what you think you're saying.
You pull the first punch and knock them hard. You're pissed, what do they expect?
More tearing and heart-breaking.
Tears down your loved ones faces as someone holds you back from constant swings.
"IT'S NO' MAH FAUL' LEMME 'O!"
You start to cry.
It's not my fault! Help me, please!
You black-out.
Waking up.
All you feel is pain.
In your head.
In your arms.
In your chest.
You know something is wrong.
And so, you reach for the cabinet.
Because the pain is too much to bare
Because feeling nothing is better than feeling this heaviness.
This is a vent piece
there really isn't anything to say about it at this point
© 2013 - 2024 Fire-N-Ice42
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