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Drinking
I drink to escape you,
to forget you,
to purge the pain,
to try to laugh,
to drown you out,
to erase your face,
to start over again.
I drink and drink and drink
only to stop feeling.
Shot after shot,
beer after beer,
and long before the night is over
I will have lost myself in an empty bottle.
Shattered, hopeless and wasted.
I know it isn't tequila I am drinking, but despair.
Perhaps it'll be worth it to earn that
moment where I really will forget you.
When I wake up in the morning, hung over
asking myself what happened, in that precise moment
where you don't exist and long forgotten,
before my feelings take over and remind me
it was you who put me here.
