Makes Your Soul Sick

It used to be nothing but friends and fun,
drank liquor till we got sick
unashamed, because in the dark, no one can hear our laughter.
The wheel kept turning
and months later seemed like forevers after,
and we drank, smoke, and creamed
and everyday vision became blurry
because sobriety was like a dream
or a nightmare,
and when night breaks
sobriety breaks
because all day we had had the shakes.
Nothing harder
because to us, vodka was water,
and cannabis smoke was nothing but sweeter air,
how can we dream?
When our reality was a permanent hallucination
in this twisted acid trip,
because even though we sobered up slow
and liquored up quick,
alcohol makes your soul sick
and kills your heart
because no chick
wants be with
someone who’s sick
and limp-dicked
even though in the beginning it seemed like it was flashy flight and fun,
and theres no girls to kiss
only thing there is your right hand to make you cum,
and you kiss the bottle
because it doesnt ask you what the hell you’ve become.
And even if one of us had wanted to answer that question,
of course we couldn’t
that would mean facing our fears
crying our tears
leaving our peers
and trashing our beers
nothing worth it.
Because despite whatever lies we told ourselves to help us believe,
the higher high we tried so hard to achieve
was misconceived,
it wasn’t about getting drunk anymore
we were drinking vodka to breathe
because the world was earthquaking
and sobriety had us shaking
and we needed the booze
because normal air had us suffocating
and some nights
we’d do worse things,
and there’s that point of grogginess
that comes in at dusk and daybreak
and you haven’t the foggiest
what time it is because you drank yourself up late
and due to this twisted mind state
everything was super sensitive
and you know what?
I just felt my soul die in me,
how could I face society
in shakes and sobriety?
Made safe by the cloak of inebriation,
laughing at the horrors
because of the hallucination,
and at nights
you sit on the floor high in a corner,
hold your friend’s guitar and you drunkenly start to strum,
and you start crying because it’s dawned that liquor is dumb,
you look at the rum
thinking, “what have I become?”
and then adrenaline kicks,
stumble to your feet, your mind ticks,
tears fall so fast and thick,
never thought it would be this quick
Liquor makes your soul sick.


I just read a book that inspired this, drinking in excess may not actually kill you if you do it right, but it’ll certainly kill other parts of you.

Never sure, but somehow always ready. Not dark. Just real.

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