Maybe I was trying to end it all
A razor blade in my hand, dull
As the liquid stealing my thoughts
Making me numb, numb —
Until there was nothing to recall
No memories in the morning of the night
Which just passed
Awakening with the same sickness
Which started all this
Always chasing everything…
Chasing my problems with liquor
Chasing my liquor with a cigarette
For me, there was no looking back
After I set that bottle down
There was almost always nothing left
Inside of it or in myself
I drained the last drop before I’d blackout
It’s those lapses in memory —
The darkness where no new perceptions were made —
My mind would stop working
Until night faded into day
Countless hours lost so many times
That I —
Can’t even tell you how many mid-mornings I went to bed
Drunk.
You can call me a quitter,
But you can no longer call me
A lush,
A rummy,
A drunkard, or a sot
Because I put that bottle down
To never be picked back up.
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